Angels and Devils
by ajsocks
Summary: After Draco is captured by the Order, he quickly realizes that both light and darkness can blind you to the truth and that it takes a combination of both to see. Harry/Draco
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Angels and Devils  
**Author:** ajsocks**  
Beta:** sperrywink  
******Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter nor am I making money off this fanfiction.  
**Warnings:** minor character death, violence, dub-con, attempted rape  
**Summary: **Draco is captured by the Order and during his time as a prisoner, he realizes that both light and darkness can be blinding. Written for the hp_prisonerfest on livejournal

**Author's Notes:** (*) indicates dialogue/paraphrases and/or scene taken directly from the Harry Potter series.

**Week One**

"_The angels did not merely sin and lose heaven, but they passed beyond all other beings in sin and made themselves fit denizens for hell."_

-Spurgeon's Sermons on Angels by Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Black fog crept between the metal bars of Azkaban, the darkness enveloped him, spoke to him in screams and tears, and blinded his mind. Draco heard a frantic yell from a voice he recognized, but couldn't remember where he heard it before. All around him the darkness disappeared into the familiar land surrounding the Malfoy Manor. Trees towered over his head, much taller than the last time he remembered until he realized it wasn't that the trees had grown, but rather he was smaller. He looked down at himself only to see a black and white puppy in his arms, tears dripped from his cheek onto the soft fur and blood seeped into his brand new slacks. His tiny arms shook the puppy and he tasted salty snot creep into his mouth as he sobbed and pleaded for the puppy to wake up.

"Fafnir!" He buried his nose into the puppy's fur and gripped it's loose skin in his hands. "Wake up! We gotta go home."

A snake slithered through the grass toward him. It's two heads hissed and warned him to leave as it licked it's bloody teeth. Draco looked up at the snake and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He grabbed a stone on the ground and hurled it at the creature and shouted, "Go away!"

The snake slithered closer to him, both heads hissed and barred it's teeth while Draco scanned the ground for another rock. He struggled to pick up a stone the size of a bowling ball and heaved it at the snake just as it was about to bite him. Draco squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face with his forearm. When he looked up he saw the snake trying to dislodge it's tail from under the stone. Draco frowned and looked around until he found a thick branch that had fallen off during the night's storm. He smiled and slammed the branch into the snake's right head until it went limp, then dropped the stick. He picked up Fafnir in his arms and carried him back to the Manor, where his father gathered him up in his arms and asked if he wanted a new puppy.

"No." Draco replied, his bottom lip extended out in a pout. "Fafnir was my puppy."

"He's dead, Draco."

His Father's voice faded with the manor as darkness took over his vision. It lasted only a moment, then he was in Madam Malkins fitting new robes for his first year at Hogwarts. Another boy with black hair and big, round glasses walked in and Draco couldn't take his eyes off him. He looked at the boy, then back at the ground and tried to listen in on what he said. He was different than the folk he was used to dealing with, and he looked quite a bit lost with everything that was happening. He could almost hear his Father's voice reproach him for even wanting to talk to such a trashy looking boy. Draco looked quickly from side to side to make sure his Father was still gone and hopped off the stand to approach the other child.

*"Hello," he said, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," replied the boy.

Draco frowned and struggled to think of a good way to reply to such a boring answer. "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands." Draco tried to sound as cool as possible, like his Father. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." The boy watched him with a blank stare, so, panicked, Draco asked, "Have you got your own broom?"

"No."

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No."

"I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No."

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine, being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm"

Draco blocked out the rest of the conversation, he remembered how he looked at Hagrid and spoke about him, only to realize soon after that the boy was confused and snapped at him. He had panicked, he could stop but by the time the conversation ended he thought it had ended well. Draco was satisfied with their little exchange and was confident the boy would become his best friend. He would be a better friend than Vincent or Greg. But then -

"I think I can tell who are the wrong sort for myself, thanks"

"Stop!" Draco cried out, grasping his head and withering on the floor. He opened his eyes, but he could not see, darkness in clouds were all around him, voices echoed in his head, memories he hated, despised, wanted to keep in the locked sections of his mind, never again to relive. He was back in the Malfoy Manor in another instant. He had arrived home for the winter holiday early, and as he set down his bag for the house elves to take, he called out to his Mother.

She didn't reply, so he went up to look for her and when he reached her bedroom with a smile on his face, it was quickly wiped off by the giggles in the room. He peeked inside and first he saw the brandy on the table and two glasses, one with pink lipstick around the rim. His mother sat atop a man he didn't recognized, bouncing up and down while he moaned and grabbed her bare ass in his hands. She shifted positions and cried out, she threw her head back and he grunted while he moved one of his hands from her butt to her breast.

The man looked past her and saw him, but instead of looking surprised he just smiled. He thrust into Draco's mother and he stared at Draco, who was paralyzed with his eyes locked on the other man's. He recognized him vaguely from his Mother's gatherings, her parties he was forced to attend. The man always stood next to them, he would speak to Lucius about business yet stay closer to his Mum. Sometimes he watched Draco as he was forced to dance with Pansy. His Mum was too close to him when Lucius was speaking with another business partner. Draco ran out without bothering to close the door. He ran straight to his bedroom and knocked a house elf to the floor as he went, then buried himself in the covers. His scarf pulled tight around his neck, time went faster, a voice called out his name in the darkness.

"Stop, please!" He screamed and slammed his fist into the stone floor. Outside he heard voices and laughter coming down the hall. He groaned and took in a deep breath as the clouds of darkness came closer to him and he arched his back as he felt himself lift off the floor, yet he could still feel the chilled stone. His cheeks were dry, his voice was still even though his mouth was open, trying to release a scream. He felt his his body disappear even as half his mind was back in the Malfoy Manor, in his bed, with the scarf and hands, touching, feeling, and a whisper while his mother slept off her drunken state.

Draco opened his eyes and opened the palm of his hand. He felt his magic flow through his veins to his heart and to his mind. "Expecto," He ground out the word between clenched teeth, his face taunt and his eyes barely open. Magic pooled in his hand, he thought of the snap of his wand when he cast a spell, how the magic came from himself to the wood, and how it released. Draco thrust his hand out toward one of the dementors and shouted, "Patronum!"

Fafnir leaped from his hand and the light from his fur blinded Draco for a moment and he felt himself drop to the ground. The voices outside the cell shouted at him, but his mind felt disconnected, like he was not quite in tune with his body. Another light shot out toward him, while the other man yelled, "Get Moody!"

The smell of rust and dirt was strong, the darkness clouds were falling away and Draco took a deep breath. He saw the light flash again until he could not see the clouds and the walls around him were stones and a dripping water. Light crept in through a crack in the wall and Draco looked at it and smiled

"What are we going to do with him? This is the second time the dementors have done this to him. I don't know how they are getting past the wards."

"We can't leave him here."

"What about Potter? He said he wanted to help -"

Draco frowned at the mention of his childhood nemesis. All scars he had were from Harry Potter, the long white scars that marred his skin were his fault. Draco slowly turned his head to look at the light coming through the crack and he breathed in the humid, stuffy air. A line of sunlight warmed his cheek and shined on his eyes.

* * *

When Draco woke up and opened his eyes, his heart beat against his chest when only darkness greeted him. His hands were bound together in thick, metal cuffs and his wrists burned. He licked the blood from a crack in his bottom lip and tried to move, but found his legs shackled together with chains. Dried blood cracked on the side of his face and his head pounded against his skull and he could do nothing but groan in pain.

"They should have just killed me." He muttered and stopped trying to move.

"I wish they had, then I wouldn't have to look at you."

Draco snapped his head toward the voice. "Potter? Is that you?"

"The one and only."

"Where am I?"

"None of your business." Harry paused, then continued, "The Grimmauld Place."

Draco lifted his hands to pull the blindfold down, but it stayed where it was. He thought of what his Mother had said about the Grimmauld Place and how it had been inherited by Potter even though she should have been the one to have it. At the time she seemed more angry than sad, and he could tell by the slight whine in her voice that she had not wanted the house, but rather wanted the Death Eaters to go there instead of the Manor. Draco scoffed. He tried to yank the blindfold off again, but it refused to move. "Take off the blindfold."

"No."

Draco sneered. "Figures. Haven't changed at all, I see. Who else is here? Your little Mudblood and lapdog? I bet she's trying to figure out the best way to get information out of me right now, isn't she? So what'll it be? Torture?"

Draco wasn't prepared for Harry's open palm to slam into his cheek. He spun to the left and hit the ground face first and bit the inside of his cheek. Blood seeped onto his tongue and he spat the salty liquid from his mouth and turned around. Adrenaline pulsed into his blood as he listened for Harry, waiting for him to strike him again and determined to be ready for it.

"It's just you and me, Malfoy. As for getting information out of you, I don't really think you know anything worth it, but Moody seems to think so. That's probably why you're still alive. I would have killed you if I had the chance. After what you did -"

"That I killed Dumbledore? As much as I hate to admit -"

"I'm aware that Snape cast the spell, but you had as much to do with it as he did." Harry paused. "There are a few things I know you know. We've managed to destroy all but three horcruxes the past six months, but we don't know where they are. I don't think you know any of that. But I do think you know where Voldemort is, or better yet, where Snape is." Draco shivered at the mere mention of the Dark Lord's name, but Harry continued, "And I think you know what he's planning."

"Did you borrow Longbottom's brain, Potter? Because everything you just said is preposterous –"

"Shut it!"

"Take off the blindfold and I might." Draco tried to sit up but couldn't, so he leaned on his elbow to raise himself up off the ground. The cuffs cut into his wrists in this position and he could feel dried blood crack open so fresh blood could ooze from the partly open wound. "Why the blindfold and the cuffs? Are you that afraid of me? You should be, after all, I am a Malfoy."

"No. And your family is just a bunch of blond heads. I don't see anything special about something that can be taken away so easily." Harry took a step forward toward him, the sound made Draco inch back, he was aware suddenly of just how close Harry was to him. "But Hermione suggested it to me the other day." There was a click, then a soft buzz filled the room. "It's an electric clipper. It's muggle." Draco stayed silent and tried to inch back, but his shoulder touched the wall. He felt Harry knee brush past his own as Harry knelt down next to him. "It cuts hair."

"Hair? Oh, you bloody ponce -" Draco reared back, but his head hit the wall. His hand immediately went to the back of his head head, but the cuffs didn't allow him to touch where the wall had hit. Draco sneered. "Don't you fucking touch me."

"I wasn't aware you had a choice."

Harry grabbed the back of his head and pulled him away from the wall. Draco cried out, tears stung his eyes but he kept them off his cheeks. The vibration of the electric clippers soothed his pounding skull temporarily before he felt his hair brush past his cheeks. Once he was done, Harry turned off the clippers and brought Draco's hands up. On his right hand was a ring with the Malfoy crest he had received for his birthday. Harry yanked it off his hand and Draco tried to lunge forward to grab it back. He felt exposed, almost like he was naked without it. Harry shoved him away.

"The blindfold stays on at all times, but I'll take off the cuffs while you go to the toilet. If you take it off, the cuffs stay on even while you're in there."

"And let me guess," Draco drawled. "I only get the bare necessities and I only get five minutes to piss and shower."

"You said it, not me."

"Potter -"

"Get up." Harry grabbed his upper arm and pulled him up. Draco waited, he felt Harry's body heat next to his as he whispered a spell to release the shackles around Draco's feet. Harry made him turn around and walk forward for several steps before Draco heard a door open. "This is the bathroom. I magicked the blindfold so you can't take it off."

"What," Draco drawled. "Don't think you can trust me?"

Harry didn't answer him, he simply muttered a spell under his breath and the chain connecting the cuffs broke in half. Draco waited until the door shut behind him before he collapsed to the floor, he touched his hand to his chest and felt his heartbeat. It beat furiously against his ribcage and the sound and feel of it sent warmth to his blood. He shivered in the darkness that was his reality, not even a smidgen of light made it through the cotton blindfold. Draco clenched his teeth together and tried to pry the blindfold off, his fingers clawed at the cloth but his nails caught his skin and scratched his forehead until he felt liquid seep into the cloth. Both tears from his cheeks and blood stained the blindfold, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.

The shower was easy – one knob to control the heat, which took Draco several minutes to figure out that hot was actually left, not as far right as possible. He felt the dirt dislodge and flow with the water down the drain. He touched his hair and grimaced. "I have a goddamn buzz cut." He whispered with a shake of his head. "Father would have a fit." When he got out, he realized that his clothes were either gone or he had lost them. So, after a frantic search that produced no results, Draco turned the water back on and stood there with his arms crossed and his lips tightly pressed together.

"Did you drown in there? You don't have any hair to wash so what are you -"

"You stole my clothes."

"Just to wash them – Malfoy, I put a new set right here. Mrs. Weasley said your clothes were too torn up to fix -"

"Just get the fuck out!" Draco stepped out of the bath, his cheeks red and his hand outstretched to touch anything available His foot caught the edge of the tub and he brought his hands out to protect his face and squeezed his eyes shut. Instead of hitting the ground, Draco fell into Harry's warm chest instead. Harry's arms steadied him and pulled him back up into a standing position.

"They're right here, Jesus." Harry pressed the clothes into Draco's palm and let go of him. "I'll be right outside. Hurry up."

Once Harry was outside, Draco felt the clothes he was given and his face twisted into a snarl. "Hand me downs?" The pants were gigantic, Draco was unsure he would be able to get them to stay on his hips, and he had been given a jumper that, after a while of feeling it, he had the suspicion had a big, fat H on it. He slipped on the clothes and stepped out of the bathroom with the biggest possible sneer he could manage.

"Your going to get wrinkles." Harry said before muttering a spell under his breath that reconnected the cuffs. The shackles, however, remained gone. "Over there is a blanket for you to sleep on. I took out the bed."

"Excuse me?"

"I decided you didn't deserve a bed if you were going to be such a prat and not tell us anything."

"Potter -"

The door slammed shut, leaving Draco alone in the darkness. A shiver ran through his body as he remembered the clouds of darkness the dementors brought. How easily they broke through his defenses to his memories, to his life. Draco knelt down to feel for the blanket, and once he found it, he laid down onto of it and turned over to hide himself inside it.

* * *

The most he heard of Harry was when he opened the door to slide in a plate of food that suspiciously never had any eating utensils. At first he refused to eat without them, but once six meals went by, he realized two things: Potter was probably only feeding him twice a day and he was probably not going to give him utensils. Which meant, he wanted him to eat like a dog.

"I am not a dog." Draco muttered as he breathed in the scent of apple cinnamon and oatmeal. His stomach growled and with every moment Draco cursed Harry under his breath.

Draco fell asleep next to the food, the dementors were all around him within his dream, his soul was lifting from his body. He was no longer blindfolded, but in front of his Mother's door again, seeing her frolic with that man. The man's blue eyes watched him as he drove her closer and closer to climax. Then, in his room, that man next to his bed.

"I just wanted to apologize if I made you uncomfortable." He whispered into Draco's ear, his breath hot and wet against Draco's ear. He put his hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed. "You're not going to tell your Father, are you? Your Mother doesn't know you saw."

Draco shook his head and through the covers he said, "I won't tell."

His fingers were soft as they caressed his neck and then brushed his cheek. "That's a good boy." His face was the only thing Draco could see, the knot in his stomach brought bile to his tongue, the tang of stomach acids burned his throat and -

Draco felt someone touch his mind briefly, and he shot up and brought up his mental barriers. His eyes searched through the darkness for someone, but instead he could only hear the deep breath of Harry Potter standing next to him. Draco reached out with his cuffed hands and pushed Harry as hard as he could to the ground and scrambled onto his feet. He started to run away, but his foot landed in the oatmeal, sending him into the floor and his foot covered in food.

"Malfoy – Malfoy, stop!"

Draco clawed at the blindfold and kicked the bowl of food in the direction he thought Harry might be. He stood up on shaky legs, his chest heaved and his breath raspy. His nails tore off the scabs from the shower and created new scrapes, all while he groaned and screamed in frustration. Harry grabbed the cuffs and pulled Draco's hands away from his face.

"Get it off!" Draco tried to shove Harry away from him, but Harry held onto the his wrists. Harry slammed his knee into Draco's stomach and he collapsed to his knees, trying to curl himself into the ball despite Harry's hold on his hands. Dry heaves shook his body and bile rose in his throat.

"I can't take it off."

Draco whimpered and the moment Harry let go of the cuffs, he clutched his hands to the middle of his stomach. His breathing slowed with every moment, yet he felt the weight of his situation crash down on him. Harry walked away for a moment, then returned and set down a plate in front of him.

"You need to eat," he said. "I'm not allowed to give you a fork or anything."

"Allowed?" A bitter smile tugged at the corners of Draco's lips. "You're just like a dog."

"So are you." Harry pushed Draco's head down until his nose touched the food. "It's Shepards Pie. Ron wanted to poison you but I told him that he had to wait. Mrs. Weasley made it. She's been angry that you haven't eaten anything."

"Why would she care?"

"She thinks every child is too skinny. You're lucky she isn't in here to force feed you. Now eat."

Draco hesitated, prompting Harry to push him further into the food, so he opened his mouth and took a small bite. As he ate, a stone in his heart grew bigger and bigger, heavier, like his entire life was sinking to the deepest part of the ocean. He ate, noticing immediately that he had not been given water since he arrived, yet he felt no thirst. Once Harry left he stayed where he was for what he felt like was days, but he reasoned it was probably only an hour.

_I think I can tell who are the wrong sort for myself, thanks._

Draco, on his knees, leaned forward and lifted his arms around his head so that the cuffs touched the back of his neck. He pressed his forehead against the ground and pounded lightly against the floor. His mouth pulled tight across his mouth, open to show his clenched teeth and allow a stifled cry from his throat.

"Draco, why are you so obsessed with the Potter boy?" His mother asked one night as they ate dinner alone. Her fork was lightly held in her hands while he twirled his around his fingers. "Stop playing with your food."

"Sorry, Mum. And I'm not obsessed with him."

"Then talk about something else. How was your school?"

"Fine. Potter – Er, I mean, Uncle Sev taught me a bunch of potions I wasn't supposed to learn till fourth year. I don't see why it had to be kept a secret. I'm brilliant."

"Of course you are dear, but you only just finished your second year. Why don't you just take the advance course -"

"No."

"Why not?" Narcissa asked as Draco stabbed the last piece of chicken with his fork and kept his eyes focused on his fork. "Draco, manners please." She put another small piece of chicken into her mouth, then took a sip of her wine before saying, "Is it because Slytherin and Gryffindor have that class together?"

"No," Draco muttered.

"And let me guess, you goof off the entire time and people think Severus favors you because you don't do much work. Draco, you can say no and shake your head all you want but Dumbledore already contacted me and Severus told your Father. If you want to be a Potions Master -"

"I don't want to be a Potions Master!" Draco stood up and ran out of the room, ignoring his Mother's protests. He went straight to his room, kicked out a house elf that was trying to clean, and jumped onto his bed and buried his face into the pillow. He reached under the bed and pulled out a Care of Magical Creatures text book and flipped it open. On the table next to him was the picture of a five year old Draco with a black and white puppy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Week Two**

"_An apology for the devil: it must be remembered that we have heard one side of the case. God has written all the books."_

- Samuel Butler

Draco didn't know how long he was sitting on the cold, hard ground with his back against the wall. He had deduced that he was straight across from the door and he would be able to hear Harry before he made it too far in. Not only that, but over a few meals he had managed to figure out how many steps Harry took before he reached him. He tapped his foot against the ground, counting softly under his breath until he reached sixty, then started over.

The door opened and Harry stepped in. This time, he hesitated before taking the five steps it took to reach Draco, but he took an extra step to stand next to him and sat down on the ground. He held out a plate of food in front of Draco until he took it, then said, "I brought you a spoon. It's soup."

"Is that so. And here I thought you'd make me lap it up like a dog again."

"Twenty muggles were killed last night." Draco didn't reply to him, so Harry continued. "Remus said that he saw your father there."

"Is that so."

"Yeah. I bet he's pissed you're missing." Harry watched him as he brought the bowl of soup up as close to his face as he could manage before taking a spoonful into his mouth. "Does he know where you are?"

"If he knew where I was then I wouldn't be here."

"Uh huh, you think he would have rescued you?"

"Think? Potter, I know he would rescue me. He's my Father. I don't expect someone like you to understand."

"Just because my Dad's dead doesn't mean I can't understand -"

"It's not just that." Draco took another sip from the spoon, then set down the bowl half full. "It is because you are not a pureblood."

"Oh, I see. You don't think muggle parents would do anything for their children? Fuck you, Malfoy." Harry grabbed the bowl and stood up, he began to walk toward the door when Draco's voice stopped him.

"You don't know a thing about purebloods."

"I know all I need to know."

"Potter," Draco voice was barely audible. "Purebloods have had a tradition of keeping things within the family. Issues within the family are taken care of by the family. We rarely go to the authorities to settle our differences. In the same way, if an outsider threatens one family member, that person has threatened every member. It is the responsibility of the family to protect each other from any threat. You, Potter, are a threat to me."

"And what if we killed you?"

"Then my Mum would probably kill you because she doesn't want to have another child." His words brought as smile to his lips. "Apparently I nearly ruined her perfect form."

"Right." Harry slammed the door behind him, leaving Draco alone in the silence again, only to be interrupted the next time he dropped off food, this time with a fork. It was another three meals before Harry actually came back into the room. Draco could hear his breathing, it was different than last time, more focused and determined than before. He sat down right next to Draco and handed him a plate of fish and chips.

"What is your deal, Potter? Think if you give me forks and spoons to eat with and try to chat that I'm just going to give you anything you want? I'm not an idiot."

"I know."

"Good." Draco ate most his meal in silence, listening to the haunting sound of Harry's breathing in the darkness. "Would you stop breathing so loud?"

"So sorry to bother you. How about I just stop breathing altogether, I bet that'd make you happy."

Draco snorted. "Not especially. I'd starve. There's a reason you're the only one to bring me food, isn't there?"

Harry waved off his question and asked, "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Fix the cabinet."

"Why did you shave my head?"

"Because. Answer the question."

"I want to take a shower. With shampoo, preferably. But oh wait, that's right, I have no hair. Take off the cuffs."

"No. Answer the question and you'll get a shower. That's it."

"Not worth it without hair." Draco muttered. "I'd rather the cuffs come off."

"Just answer the damn question! Why'd you do it? Was it because you hated me? I doubt it was because your family was threatened, after all, they were in such good standing with Vold -"

Draco blindly kicked in the direction he heard Harry's voice and was pleased when his foot met Harry's hip. He heard him fall over and cry out, so Draco took that moment to stand up and move away from him. Draco swung his foot out around in a circle to make sure he wasn't about to run into the wall.

"And what do you know about his inner circle or what he would or wouldn't do? You know that's bullshit! I did what I had to do, Potter. To save my family, myself, and my values I fixed that cabinet. What were my family's choices? Join Dumbledore and the Ministry – a group that stands for everything we fight against? Or fight back? The muggles keep coming in and they don't bother to learn our way and it's families like mine that are hurt. They just come and take over everything! They try to change our values to fit theirs, like your goddamn self righteous mudblood friend and her stupid save the house elves!"

"Don't call her a mudblood!"

"That's what she is to me, Potter. A filthy mudblood that needs to learn that our world isn't hers to change -"

Draco heard his nose crack before he felt the pain, before he realized he was falling into the ground, before his hands, together in chains, were instinctively thrust out in front of him in a desperate attempt to catch himself. Blood dripped from his nose, his legs felt Harry's shoes move closer to his face, so Draco lifted his shoulder off the ground with his elbow.

"Bloody hell, at least make it a fair fight."

"Excuse me?"

"You're always whining that I'm always cheating. What about you? You're going to beat up someone who is cuffed and blindfolded?"

Harry growled and whispered a spell that cut the cuffs apart, then grabbed Draco's wrist and pulled him up. "Fine. But I can't take off the blindfold."

Draco smirked and slammed the cuff into Harry's head, and when he heard the satisfying pound of Harry hitting the floor, he said, "Doesn't matter." He kicked but missed, and Harry's hand grabbed his ankle and pulled his feet out from under him. Pain shot up from his arse, Harry stood up and kicked his stomach, Draco doubled over on the ground like a fetus.

He heard Harry's breathing, his deep, fast breaths as his footsteps stopped a few feet away from him. Draco held his stomach and sat up on his knees and waited for Harry to come back toward him. He felt the prickles of Harry's mind touching his and Draco, for a moment, let him feel the pain in his wrists, see the darkness his eyes saw, and feel the anger at the front of his mind. Harry's mind begun to back off, but just as Draco relaxed because he believed Harry would not try again, Harry's mind struck his, bringing forward the most recent memory he was trying to hide.

He was screaming. Darkness. _I think I can tell who's the wrong sort for myself, thanks_. Anger, disgust, life. _That's a good boy._ Dementors, his consciousness disconnecting, the clouds of night. _He's dead, Draco._ Black and white fur, voices, screams, darkness. _I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks._ Rock, blood, the forest, screams -

"Get out!" Draco pushed his consciousness forward, the force of his mind knocked Harry to the ground. He clutched his head, the blindfold suddenly wet as he tried to block the sounds from his mind again. He felt Harry move closer to him so Draco struck out blindly with his fists, connecting with Harry's palm, which held his fist in his hand.

"Malfoy - "

Draco tried to get away from him, but Harry's body was covering his own, blood from a wound on Harry dripped and mixed with the blood still flowing from his nose. Harry held his hands down onto the ground, his hips pressed into Draco's. Draco stilled, suddenly aware that something hard was pressing into his leg and Harry's breath mixed with his own.

Draco chuckled. "This turns you on, Potter? No wonder you and the Weasley slut never made it."

"Shut up!" Harry stumbled away from him before slamming his foot into Draco's stomach. "I'm sick of this!" His breaths were shallow, quick, and something desperate echoed in a way that Draco could hear. Draco stayed on the ground, his cheek burned and blood filled his mouth so he spit it out. Harry grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him up. "I need to know where they're planning on attacking next."

"I don't know where -"

"Bullshit!"

Draco tried to pry Harry's hand off his neck, but Harry's other hand grabbed his arm and dragged him across the room. He elbowed Harry in the gut and tried to run away, but Harry caught him with both arms and shoved him into the door. He heard Harry shout a spell, and before he could realize what spell was cast Draco was slammed up against the tub. "Tell me where."

"Sod off -" The next instant, Draco was underwater, his face submerged, water clogged his ears and distorted Harry's voice. His nose filled with water before he could stop it and the water burnt his throat. He pushed against the tub, against Harry's large hand on his head, until he was pulled out with barely enough time to breath before he was shoved back in. No time to think. He was pulled out, Harry demanded information, but Draco could only hear the echo of his words as he sucked in air. Just as Harry was about to push him in again, Draco slammed his elbow into Harry's ribs and smiled when he heard him yelp and fall over.

A loud crack, then silence; Draco waited for Harry to grab at him, yell, scream, even kill him, but Harry never got up. Draco's breathing calmed and he began to think that Harry had left until he heard a soft sound: breathing. It was different than how Harry normally breathed. Draco listened for the deep, determined, loud breaths that alerted him to Harry's presence everyday until he was sure that the sound was not his own, but Harry's.

Draco reached his hands out and searched the ground for Harry. He touched the water on the ground, felt the dirt and hair on the ground, his fingers brushed past the small cracks in the tile until he reached Harry's arm. Draco followed Harry's arm up to his face, where he touched his eyelids until he was sure Harry was knocked out. He searched for Harry's wand, and was disappointed that it was not on Harry, so he searched the rest of the bathroom for it with no luck.

"Bloody hell." Draco cursed. He put his hand inside the tub, running his fingers through the water while he kept his other hand on Harry. He considered for a moment sticking Harry's head inside, either to drown him or get back at him he wasn't sure, but a knot formed in his stomach when he remembered that without a wand, he wasn't going to be going anywhere.

Draco stood up and felt for the door. He dragged Harry out of the bathroom to his blanket and covered him with it. His hands lingered on Harry's shoulders, fascinated by the heat he found there, and with a frown he pressed his lips against Harry's forehead. When Draco pulled away, he could still feel the sweat and heat from Harry's forehead. He felt his way to the bathroom and searched for a towel or washcloth with no luck. Every drawer was empty save for the contact paper inside. Draco slipped the jumper Harry gave him off and tore off the sleeve to soak and put on Harry's head.

When he was a child, Draco remembered several winters he was confined to the bedroom with a raspy voice and a cough that tore his insides apart. Eventually, he got sick so often that the mediwitches refused to give him any potions to help.

"Draco, honey." His mother's voice whispered softly just before she pressed her lips against his forehead. "The mediwitch said that she can't give you any more medication. You get sick too often."

"No."

"No?"

His Father entered the room then with a small puppy sleeping in his arms. Lucius looked like a giant with the tiny animal, and when he put the puppy on the floor next to Draco's bed he wrapped the puppy in a blanket.

"Draco, this puppy is sick, like you. You kept saying you wanted one so hurry and get well so you can take care of him."

Draco stared down at the puppy with wide, excited eyes. He doubled over, his entire body heaved when he coughed and his hair was matted with sweat. Lucius rubbed his back in small circles and held his wife's hand.

"I have to leave now -"

"No!"

"Draco, I have business. I will be back next week. While I'm gone think of a good name for him." Lucius pointed down at the pup. "I expect to be able to get him a collar when I get back."

At the time, Draco pouted and refused to talk to his father any longer; now, Draco could not think of anyone else he would rather talk to. He laid down next to Harry, not quite touching the other man, but close enough to hear his rhythmic breathing and feel heat from his fever.

**Week Three**

"_If a man is not rising upwards to be an angel, depend upon it, he is sinking downwards to be a devil."_

-Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

Harry's head pounded when he woke up, his back was stiff and ached, and his shirt stuck to his body. He heard a noise beside him, so he looked to the side and saw Draco sitting next to him. Draco was faced as if he could see Harry through the blindfold, and he touched Harry's shoulder and pressed his lips against his forehead.

"Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Checking your fever."

"By kissing me?"

"Didn't you ever get sick when you were little?"

"I didn't have someone to pamper me every time I got a fever, Malfoy."

"Don't judge me for having a good childhood."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I bet you had a perfect one. Always had Mum and Dad to bail you out, didn't you? Meh, I don't believe it. Everyone had something shitty happen to them."

"Nope. Not mine."

"Bullshit."

Draco was silent for a moment, he leaned against the wall and tapped his fingers against the cool hard wood floors. "My dog died," he muttered with his head turned away from Harry.

"Did your father kill him?"

"I know you think my father is actually the devil is disguise, Potter, but he wasn't to me. He found Fafnir by the Manor when he was coming home and let me keep him. It was my fault he died. I should have listened."

Harry sat up and leaned against the wall next to him. "How was it your fault?"

"I was playing where I wasn't supposed to. The Malfoy grounds have a lot of magical creatures so I'm supposed to stay nearby the house but I wanted to explore. This two headed snake ripped his throat out because I didn't listen to my Father."

"How old were you?"

"Six."

"If you were six then it wasn't your fault. Your father should have kept a better eye on you."

Draco shook his head and tried to scratch through the blindfold. "My Father wanted me to go into politics, you know."

"I can imagine."

"After Fafnir died I was hell bent on doing veterinarian magic and publishing papers on reintroducing wandless magic into schools."

"Wandless?"

"You were doing wandless magic before you went to Hogwarts, weren't you? I heard the stories. When you supposedly released a snake while at some muggle place. We always make fun of the absurd number of owls we hear were sent to your place. My Hogwarts letter was accidentally sent to you, did you know that?"

"Haha, no. I didn't read them all."

"Well it was. Father was furious. He went to Dumbledore shouting about how his son wasn't a squib. It was the first time I met Dumbledore, he handed me my letter in person and apologized for sending it with your letters. He told me all the crazy things about you. I don't know why."

Harry snorted. "Maybe he wanted to save you by making you friends with me."

"Save me? From what? Loving parents and the opportunity to learn wandless magic when I was old enough? It used to be that we would use wands to learn the spells, then when our magic matured wizards would strengthen their magic until a wand wasn't needed. Sometimes, if a wizard's magic was strong enough, even a spell wasn't needed. But muggle borns, they couldn't make the transfer as easily as purebloods. And worse, some of them couldn't make the transfer."

"So what?"

"So? My great-grandfather's portrait told me it was a shame when he was alive to use a wand in everyday life after your twentieth birthday. A wand is meant to only be used when a wizard is learning how to perform a spell, and even then once your magic matures it should be easier to learn without a wand."

"Then why don't they teach it at Hogwarts? This sounds like a bunch of shit, Malfoy. If you could do wandless magic you would have been able to take off the blindfold or escape."

Draco fingered the blindfold and said, "Have you ever seen my Father do wandless magic? He doesn't do it because of the Dark Lord. He cannot do wandless magic, but my father and many of the purebloods can. The oldest families, I should say. The ones that refused to let go."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I only just began to learn how to sense my magic, let alone learn how to use it without a wand." Draco held out his hand in front of him as if he could see it, and said, "I did cast one spell wandless, when I was in Azkaban."

"I don't buy it. If they can do wandless magic, why would they follow someone like Voldemort? It doesn't make any sense."

Draco flinched at Voldemort's name. "Why exhaust yourself with weakening the foe, when you can let someone else do it for you? Think like a Slytherin. If he fails, then claim ignorance. If he wins, kill him off when he's weak from beating you and take over. Voldemort is strong, but he is too focused on killing you. It's made him vulnerable. All I want is for the mudbloods -"

"Don't call them that!"

"Fine! I just want your precious muggle borns to get out! It was suggested that the schools omit wandless magic because of the muggle borns. Because they felt uncomfortable, because they were judged because not all of them could do it. Have you ever felt your magic, Potter? It's like being drunk on it, drunk on _magic_."

"Drunk on magic? That's crazy."

"Fine. Don't believe me. It's not like anyone else will have to hear about it, anyhow. If you win the war, I'll be disgraced and no one will bother to publish anything I have to say. And if we win, well then, it still won't matter because it will immediately be thrown back into society anyway. Any new theories will be thrown out on the basis that they are not the old ways or because I am the one who introduces them."

"If they used to do it, then it isn't really new."

"I wanted to experiment with it. Prove that it effects the how potent a potion is, that it slows our response, that wands decrease the power behind our spells, and that it will a benefit to have it."

"So you want to prove that purebloods are better than muggleborns?"

"I want to prove that wandless magic is better. The Ministry tracks wands, they use them to manipulate what we can and cannot use. That's how they ding you for using magic underage. It's how they keep prisoners in Azkaban without the staff that used to be necessary. It's how they've saved money and manipulated the wizarding community. Do you realize it is against the law to teach wandless magic in schools? Granger doesn't know that, does she? My Great-Grandfather fought against the law and before it was passed he was found stabbed to death in Muggle London. The Ministry claimed he was killed by a muggle that didn't know he was a wizard. Can you believe that?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "I can't believe a wizard that knew wandless magic would be killed by a muggle. He would have fought back."

"Well, not one muggle, anyway. Wandless magic is difficult. It takes more energy than using a wand because it draws only on you." Draco couldn't help it, his mouth widened into a grin and laughter bubbled in his chest until he had to release it. It sounded hollow and he tried to suppress his laughter, tears stung his eyes and his entire body shook. "It's depressing," he said between laughs. He shook his head and relaxed.

"And what exactly is so funny."

"I've been so focused on you that I forgot. My father always told me that my hate was my weakness. Especially how much I hated you."

"I don't think hatred is a weakness. It's just an emotion. I think it makes you stronger."

"I never thought so before now. But it's true. To think, even when you were knocked out I was so obsessed with defying you that I forgot to even try wandless magic."

"That's just a special kind of hate. And I doubt it was just me that made you forget."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You don't sleep well."

Draco moved away from Harry. "How would you know that?"

"You don't have a bed. I can't imagine it's very easy to sleep on the ground. I used to hate this horrible bed when I lived at the Dursleys. You would have thought I had permanent dark splotches under my eyes. I used to live under the stairs."

"You're joking."

"Nope."

Draco cracked each one of his knuckles individually, the soft pop from his fingers was the only sound in the room until Draco said, "I have three bedrooms."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"...Pansy has four."

Harry burst out laughing and said, "You sound angry that she has more than you."

"I am."

His answer was like adding fuel to the fire, it prompted Harry to grab his shoulder while he laughed and shake him a bit. Draco frowned and pulled away from Harry so that they were no longer touching.

"I don't see what's so funny."

"Hold on for a moment." Harry stood up and whispered a few words under his breath. "Come here."

"I don't know where here is, Potter."

"Just follow my voice."

Draco snorted, he wasn't willing to admit to Harry that he had been following him for weeks by just his breath and that he did not need his voice to know where he was. He listened for Harry's deep, powerful breaths when he stood up and doubt flooded him. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"

This time, Harry snorted and said, "You can stay there, then."

Draco repeated Harry under his breath in a high voice and walked forward to where he could hear Harry. Their shoulders slapped up against each other so Draco stopped. He waited for Harry to say something, but he didn't. Instead, Draco heard him move and then Harry's hands were on his back, pushing him forward. Draco threw his hands out to catch him, he expected the wooden floors but he fell onto a soft bed.

"I want you to show me how to do wandless magic."

Draco flipped around so that he was leaning up on his elbows, he hoped he was facing Potter and directed his face toward the direction he heard his breaths. "I don't know how," Draco replied. He pushed himself up. "I only can tell you how my Father showed me how to feel my magic. He said it was the first step."

"Show me."

"No."

Harry's breath quickened and when he spoke his voice was subdued, as if his teeth were clenched to hold back his anger, "Why not."

"There's nothing in it for me."

"I gave you a bed."

"I want the blindfold off."

"I can't do that. I promised I wouldn't."

Draco turned his nose upright and sprawled out on the bed. He smiled when his head hit the pillow and a pleased sigh escaped his lips. The bed sank down when Harry sat down on the edge, Draco's body moved toward the dip and his waist brushed up against Harry's back.

"Is there anything else I can give you?"

"Why do you want to know about wandless magic so much, Potter? Learning really doesn't become you."

"Shut up. Just tell me what you want."

Draco sighed. "Would it be too ridiculous to say I just want to sleep?"

"Sleep?"

"A sleep draught. One powerful enough to subdue dreams."

"Ah. I understand. Fine. I'll get you one."

"Every night."

"That's a lot – fine. I can do that."

"Come here." Draco pushed himself up and sat cross legged at the front of the bed. He patted the bed in front of him, motioning for Harry to sit the same way as he was. Harry climbed into the bed, he sat down in front of Draco and bounced nervously on the bed. Draco leaned forward and put his hands up, then said, "Lean forward. Put your forehead against mine."

"What? No!"

"Scared, Potter? Don't worry. You have my word that I will not hurt you."

"What good is the word of a Slytherin?"

"Being a Slytherin doesn't automatically make me a devil. Just as being a Gryffindor doesn't make you or your friends angels. I saw plenty of Gryffindor Death Eaters, just as there are many Slytherins with your precious Ministry and Order. Right now, you're just Harry Potter and I'm Draco Malfoy."

"I've always known you were Draco Malfoy."

Draco shook his head and thought back to the Malfoy Manor the summer after his first year. He was sitting in front of Fafnir's grave when he saw his Father walking from the Manor. At first, Draco tried to pretend like he didn't notice, but soon enough he couldn't help but look back to see how close his Father was. Fafnir's grave was a simple statue of the young puppy with his name carved out with the date his died under it. The handwriting was atrocious, a testament to Draco's stubborn stance on who should carve the name into the gravestone even though the sculpture had refused.

"Draco, listen to me." Lucius sat down next to his son on the wet grass, his robes fluttered in the breeze and a piece of his blond hair flew from his shoulder onto Draco's. "Severus brought something to my attention today that we should speak about." He took a deep breath and squeezed Draco's shoulder. "He says that he only hears you being referred to by your surname."

"Yeah? That's not weird."

"No, it's not. However, he also said that you told Pansy Parkinson you'd rather her call you Malfoy than Draco."

"No, she called me Draky. I hate that nickname. Mum used to call me that. Drove me nuts."

"Yes, but – Draco. Being a Malfoy is important. It's important to have pride in being a Malfoy, a Slytherin, a pureblood. But remember that you are _Draco_ Malfoy."

"I know my name is Draco."

"That's not what I mean. You are a Malfoy. No matter what you do, you will always be a Malfoy. But you are not Malfoy. You are not Slytherin. You are not pureblood. You are Draco Malfoy. In the end, that is where your pride and loyalty should be."

Draco's face scrunched up and he stared at his Father, waiting for him to continue to explain what he meant. But he didn't. Instead, they sat in front of Fafnir's grave together and felt the wind against their cheeks and continued to talk about magic and school and how he had turned Pansy's hair green by accident on the train ride home.

"Malfoy?" Harry shook his shoulder. "You okay?"

Draco touched his short hair with a frown, then let his hand fall. "Yeah, I'm fine. Touch your forehead to mine."

When their skin touched, both boys hesitated to do anything else and waited for the other to make a wrong move. Neither boy did anything, however, so Draco brushed off his shock and brought his hands up to touch Harry's cheeks. "I'm going to repeat what my Father told me, okay?"

"Sure."

Draco took in a deep breath and tried to remember his Father's exact words and movements. Suddenly, the room felt small and the heat between them was suffocating him. Sweat wet his skin and his heart raced as adrenaline was thrown into his system. "I'm not going to give you the long lecture my Father gave me, but basically all he said was this: the magic is inside you. It's part of you – your mind, your soul, your blood. I am going show you my magic, and through it you have to find your own."

Draco closed his eyes and let his mind calm down. He focused in on his magic, the feel of it working through his body. Warmth traveled through his body and to his hands, and transferred to Harry, causing him to gasp and try to pull away. Draco grabbed him before he could, his fingers nestled themselves in his hair and a part of his mind noticed how coarse it was, yet somehow soft.

He remembered when his Father had sat in front of him with his hands on either side of Draco's head as he murmured words of magic, words of encouragement. How he had to realize the warmth in his body was not his, but there was another presence inside him. A different sort of warmth. Deeper, coarse compared to his Father's refined magic, and burning hot in the pit of his stomach.

And then he felt it.

Harry's hand grabbed his own and he felt Harry's magic come inside him. It licked his skin like fire, it was harsh, unforgiving, desperate, and beat into him like the sun during the summer. Draco's hands burned and he tried to get away from Harry, but Harry's hands kept him there. Where his magic was hesitant, Harry's flared up and pushed his own magic out to combat Draco's.

Harry let go of his hands and Draco drew them back to his chest as the magic left his system. But his nose burned and he felt heat next to his leg and just as he was about to touch it, Harry yelled, "Holy shit!" Harry grabbed Draco's hand and scrambled off the bed, pulling Draco with him. He fell to the ground on top of him, but was occupied in patting Draco's leg, then cast a water spell on the bed. "You didn't tell me it could spark a fire." Harry snorted and looked down at Draco, who was still under him.

"Get off me, Potter. It's not my fault you're the exception to _everything_."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are. Now, really, get off me -" Draco moved underneath him and felt Harry's prick begin to harden. He moved again, but before he could feel if there was another reaction, Harry jumped off him. "Don't forget your promise," Draco said.

"I'll remember. I'll bring a new set of blankets too."

Harry left then, he shut the door behind him quietly and Draco wondered if he enjoyed reminding him that he was alone. He stayed where he was, almost afraid when he stood up the bed would be gone, or the fire would start up again, but when he finally stood up, he was shocked to find he had been just as affected by the contact as Harry. He stayed awake and waited for Harry, and he was disappointed when the next visit was simply a quick opening of the door to give him food and a sleeping draught. He was surprised that along with the draught was a glass of water.

* * *

Draco didn't know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up he was wrapped in the half burnt covers, still thankful for the warmth they provided. The covers were twisted between his legs, leaving his feet uncovered to brave the chill.

"Why is it always so bloody cold in this room? It's June, for heaven's sake." He stayed there, suddenly aware he had to pee for the first time in a week and a half, but waited for it to pass.

"I would have thought you'd need to piss by now." Harry's voice came out of thin air, his breaths silent for the first time since he arrived. Draco jumped up and whipped his head toward his voice, but stayed silent. "I didn't give you the potion this time. In your food, I mean. It clears -"

"I was aware of what you were giving me. If you hadn't, you would have given me water. Instead, my body stayed fine while my mouth and throat were parched."

"Yeah, Hermione mentioned your mouth would be a bit dry -"

"Of course she did."

"Malfoy, I need to know where the deatheaters are going to attack next."

Draco leaned against the bed frame and let the back of his head hit the wood with a bang. He rubbed his forehead and said, "And I need something to take away this headache."

Within seconds Harry's hand was at his throat, squeezing just enough to show he was capable. He remembered the scarf from Hogwarts, how it twisted around his neck as if it were about to strangle him. Draco brought his hands up and felt Harry's tie, his fingers held the cloth lightly at first, then he pulled Harry further down toward him, so he could feel Harry's breath coming from both his nose and mouth.

Excitement rushed through his blood to his groin, and in an effort to distract Harry, Draco scoffed and said, "Learning wandless magic is tough, I forgot. I bet you need something too."

"People are dying -"

"People I don't care about."

"You're a heartless bastard." Harry's breath quickened and he pulled away from Draco quickly, basically yanking his tie away. "I know you know something. You would have already told me if you didn't."

"And how do you know that. Maybe I'm pretending so that you keep me alive long enough to see my family again. You were so sure before that I don't know anything. I reckon something changed by the way you were trying to fucking drown me."

"Sod off. Maybe I should just take away the draughts, then?"

"You shouldn't make threats that you are not willing to keep. You're too goody to take back your word. Where's the toilet, again?"

Harry muttered an answer that was too soft for Draco to hear before he slammed the door shut behind him. Draco laid down, his bladder forgotten for the erection between his legs. The cuffs were still undone, but were still heavy on his wrist, so when he slipped his hand under his pants and the cool metal of the broken cuff touched his skin, he stopped. The image of Harry Potter was vivid in his mind's eye, his face was flushed like when they were fighting, his green eyes burned like a forest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Week Four**

"_Man can hardly even recognize the devils of his own creation."_

-Albert Schweitzer

The fact that Harry was ignoring him was obvious, it was like a big fat knot in his shoulder that refused to go away and made its presence known every time he moved his arm. The knot in his shoulder was born of boredom, but Draco decided that it was Harry's fault despite the fact he was laying on the bed, still in the same position as when Harry left. The only time he got up was to get the food Harry dropped off, and even then he was tempted to just dump it in front of the door in an act of protest. But then he'd remember that he hated him and would rather talk to the wall than Harry Potter.

Draco rubbed his shoulder and slid his plate across the floor until he heard it smack against the door. His mind wandered back to sixth year, when he had taken refuge in the bathroom only to find a floating ghost was occupying it as well. She was frowning at him, her pigtails floated abnormally above her head, but she didn't look like she wanted to take his head off. He immediately wiped away any frustrated tears he had and shouted, "Get out of here!"

"Who are you? What are you doing in my bathroom?"

"Taking a piss."

"In the sink?"

"Sod off!"

"That's really rude. It's my bathroom. You should be the one to leave. Who are you anyway?"

"Malfoy."

"Malfoy? I've heard of you. What's your first name?"

"Draco."

"Ah. Draco's a nice name. Better than mine. I'm Myrtle. Pleased to meet you. So why were you crying, Draco?"

"I wasn't crying! And don't call me Draco like you know me."

Myrtle shrugged and flew down next to him. Draco took a step back and wiped his cheeks again to make sure there were no remaining tear streaks still on his face. She leaned forward so that her nose was about to touch his and said, "You missed a bit there." She pointed to his left cheek and he quickly rubbed it and sneered at her.

"I had something in my eye."

"I have a lot in my eyes too, then. So why were you crying? I promise I won't tell anybody. No one believes me anyway. I told them that kids were causing trouble in here but no one would listen. Your secret is safe with me. If you don't tell me I'll tell somebody you were down here crying. I know your name!"

"Fine, fine!" Draco dipped down to make sure no one was hiding in one of the stalls, but while he scanned the space between the doors and toilets, Myrtle giggled. "What is it now?" He asked.

"Don't worry. No one else is here."

"Er - My dog died."

"Oh, that's terrible, Draco!"

"I told you not to call me Draco!"

"It's your name, isn't it? Malfoy sounds funny. I think Draco is better."

"Whatever. Leave me alone."

Draco had lasted two weeks before he broke down and told her the real reason why he had been crying. She had listened, cooing his name softly with sympathy and tried to pat his back when he threw up from fear. Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco. Always Draco, never Malfoy.

"Fucking Myrtle." He muttered, burying his face in his knees. His friends called him Draco, but they were few and far between. And even then, they called him Malfoy when he was angry or when he was being unreasonable.

A knot formed in his stomach as he thought of Harry. Out loud, he whispered, "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." The image of an eleven year old Harry, standing next to his two new friends was vivid in his mind. "You can call me Draco," he continued, playing out in his mind what would have happened if Harry had chose him instead of Weasley.

The next time his meal was dropped off, he heard Ginny Weasley giggle behind the door before Harry shut it with a bang, as if he was trying to stop the sound of her voice from reaching Draco. Anger boiled in his stomach and when he picked up the food and smelled the leftovers from the previous night, he slammed it against the door and smiled when he heard the plate shatter.

Draco stepped lightly back to the bed, praying that a shard would not pierce the bottom of his foot, and laid down. The satisfaction from the plate wore off as he laid there, so he tried to fall asleep so time would pass faster. The sleeping draughts kept the nightmares away, and soon sleep became boring and the only thing to occupy his mind was the sound of Harry at breakfast and dinner.

"Arse." Draco muttered. A smirk danced across his lips and he chuckled, thinking of Ginny Weasley's shrill voice on the other side of the door.

Draco went to the door and sat straight up next to it. When he heard the door crack open and Ginny's voice echoed through, Draco sat with his hand poised next to the door. He slapped his hand down, but he only managed to slap his wrist with Harry's. The plate of food clattered to the ground and Harry yelped and slipped his hand back through the door before Draco got another chance to grab it.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Ginny asked. "Come on. Let's just go. You said he wasn't going to say anything anyway. You should just let him starve."

"No."

The sound of Harry's voice sent adrenaline into his blood. Draco reached his hand out toward the sound, but when he touched the border of magic a spark burned his finger. He cried out and stuck his burnt finger in his mouth and sucked on the wound. If Harry saw him, he didn't say anything, and the door closed to silence.

The burn on his finger stung. He rubbed his finger against his thumb, the burn was smooth like marble. He felt his way to the bathroom, undressed, and carefully stepped over the edge of the tub. Cold water struck his face, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He thought of the first time he washed Fafnir in the tub, he had turned on the water, never bothering to think it might be too cold for the puppy.

"Draco, you're supposed to use warm water." Lucius said, walking up behind him. The puppy was shivering in the tub, his fur was stuck to his body and his whined softly.

"Oh. You said not to use hot water."

Lucius chuckled and turned the water a bit warmer. "Yes, but freezing him isn't good either."

"He won't freeze." Draco grinned and nearly fell into the tub when he tried to envelope the puppy in a hug. "He's my best friend."

"What about Blaise or Pansy?"

"I don't like Pansy much. She keeps trying to play with my hair."

"Then tell her to stop."

"I did and she won't listen. It doesn't matter because Fafnir's my friend now!" Draco poured shampoo into his hand and rubbed it into Fafnir's back. He barked and tried to jump out of the tub and lick Draco's face, but he ended up splashing Lucius. The front of his robes was covered in miniature bubbles and his pants had a large water spot on his crotch.

"Okay, Draco, it's time to get ready for your birthday party." Lucius spelled the water and bubbles away with a flick of his wand.

"I don't want to go."

"Draco -"

"Please, I want to stay with Fafnir."

"You need to start playing with other children."

"They're all boring. Can't I just take their gifts and make them go home? I don't wanna play with them."

"But they're your friends."

"No. Fafnir is my friend." Draco nuzzled the small puppy and picked him up.

"You won't be able to take Fafnir to Hogwarts -"

"Then I'll make a new friend and he'll like Fafnir too."

"Really now?"

"Yeah! Father... Is it true, what they're saying?" Lucius looked down at him with a confused stare, so Draco continued, "There was these two red haired boys when Mum took me with her to go shopping. I think they were twins and I'd never met twins before so I started to chat with them, but they were angry. They wanted me to go away and called me a deed eater. What's a deed eater?"

Lucius chuckled and helped Draco dry off Fafnir with a towel. "Did they all have red hair?"

"Yes. Their mum was real scary. She heard them and started to yell and said she was sorry and stuff."

"That's the Weasleys for you. Next time one of them say anything to you tell them that they all have red hair, freckles, and have more children than they can afford. They're a bunch of riffraff. Don't pay any attention to them."

Draco shook his head in a last ditch attempt to distract himself from memories. He knelt down in the water, his hand pulled the blindfold down, but it wouldn't budge. The water soaked into the cloth and it felt heavy against his skin, but still didn't move. He heard the door close softly, and his head turned toward the door, but his eyes saw nothing but darkness.

* * *

It took him three tries to finally grab Harry's arm in just the right place to pull him through the barrier. Ginny was with him every time now, a fact that Draco wished he could remedy to save his eardrums, and when Harry was flung into the room, she screamed and shouted for someone to help. Harry groaned and pushed himself up and rubbed his cheek.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

Draco didn't answer. He reached out and touched Harry lightly before shoving him back onto the ground. Draco listened for Ginny and turned his head toward the sound of her voice. "Weaslette, do shut up. Your voice is painful to listen to on a normal day, let alone when you are screeching at the top of your lungs."

"Malfoy, let Harry go."

"You make it sound like I abducted him. I'm the prisoner here."

"Ginny, I'm fine I just -"

Ginny touched the barrier, only to yelp and curse. "Come on, Harry. I told you that you should have just let this traitor starve -"

"Traitor? You are as much traitor as I am."

"Malfoy -"

Harry stood up but before he could continue, Ginny's voice cut through the barrier like a knife. "Me? You're the only traitor here, Malfoy. You terrorized Harry for years and let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. It's you fault that Dumbledore -"

"I didn't kill him! But what about you? In my situation, if I was the one you had to kill I know you wouldn't have hesitated."

"Draco!" Harry's voice sent chills through Draco's back and he felt like time had stopped momentarily. Harry walked in front of Draco so that he was in the middle of the two, he pressed the palm of his hand against Draco's chest and pushed him away from the barrier. "Hold on one second," he said, then turned away from him. "I'll handle this. I'll meet you upstairs okay? Wait up for me."

"Okay, Harry. Don't be too long. Promise?"

Harry nodded. "Promise."

Draco heard the door shut and he crossed his hands over his chest. "Going to do the deed, Potter?"

"No. Draco, you can't... I don't know. Just stop."

The sound of his name rolling off Harry's tongue made him shiver and his cheeks burned. "Stop what, exactly? Speaking? Who do you think you are?" Draco took a step forward and grabbed the front of Harry's shirt. "Don't call me that. Don't call me Draco like you know anything about me!"

"Fine, whatever. _Malfoy_. And I don't think Ginny started anything. It's you that dragged me in here like a crazy person. What were you thinking?"

"Why are you ignoring me?"

"Ignoring you?"

"Think you've gotten some useful information out of me already, Potter? You think you've figured everything out?"

Harry slapped away Draco's hand. "No. Like I said I doubt you know anything useful at all. And you're not my top priority. There's a war going on! People are dying, haven't you figured that out yet? Your parents could be next to die and yet you sit here and complain that no one is paying attention to you? Shit, Malfoy. Get your head out of your ass."

"My parents...? What happened to my parents?"

"Nothing, that I know of. But they could be the next to go. I know that no one here would spare a Malfoy."

"Then why did they spare me?"

"Because they thought you'd be easy to crack."

Draco touched the blindfold and shook his head. He felt around for his bed, then sat down on it, his head bent over his knees and his elbow rested on his thigh. "You talk like your side is the only right side. I explained my reasons to you already. I cannot help you."

"Then you'll probably be sent to Azkaban at the end of the war. Either that, or someone will find an excuse to kill you."

"Who? You? Would you murder me? Better yet, could you? I don't have faith in your ability to murder him, let alone me. Yes, Potter, I said murder. Because despite the pretty words you put on it, no matter how you justify it or pretend like you're protecting millions of people – after you kill the Dark Lord, you will be a murderer. People will rave about how you defeated You-know-who but you will sit in your house with your Weasley offspring and remember how you pointed your wand at a life and ended it."

"That's a lie. I'm not a murderer."

"No,you aren't," Draco whispered. "Get out."

"Excuse me?"

"You told her you wouldn't be long. The Weasleys are probably livid that you are talking instead interrogating me anyway."

"Malfoy... Did you pull me in here because you're lonely?"

Draco sneered, but a light pink hue ghosted across his cheeks. "No. I was bored. Now go. Your girlfriend is waiting for you."

"She's not really my girlfriend."

"I don't really care."

"I don't understand you. First, you fight with me, then you take care of me, but then you keep on being a complete prat and refuse to give anything useful. And now you want my company? Jesus, sometimes I wish I could just let you go so that I don't have to deal with this shit."

Draco perked up and reached out to where he hoped Harry was, but his hand met only air. "Really? My Mum used to say I was an outright curse when I didn't get my way. I could be worse, Potter. So just let me go before I decide to -"

"I can't just let you go."

"Why exactly? Because the Order folk have you on a leash?"

"They do not have me on a leash."

"Yes, they do. Shit, you can't even fuck who you want to fuck. Instead, you've paired yourself up with the Weasley girl because that's the good thing to do and that's what that entire stupid family is expecting. But I wonder what they'd think if they knew you got turned on by beating up Malfoy -"

"Shut up!"

"Oh, did I hit a sore spot? That's right. You're Harry Potter. You're the Boy-who-Lived. You represent everything good in this horrible world. But the truth is you're fake."

"Your Mum was right," Harry said. "You are a little shit when you want something." Draco reached out and grabbed the front of Harry's shirt and pulled him forward so that he standing in between Draco's legs. Harry's breaths quickened, but he didn't move even when Draco placed his hands on Harry's hips.

"Always have been." A smirk tugged at Draco's lips as he felt for Harry's tie and once he had it, he rubbed the soft material between his fingers. Draco pulled the tie toward his chest so that Harry's nose was a mere inch away from his.

"I don't think we should do this," Harry said, his came out short and labored, and when he tried to move away Draco pulled him closer. "Ginny is waiting for me. Ginny is... I love her."

"I know."

Harry leaned closer, their lips brushed up against each other and like struck by sparks of electricity, Harry jolted away from him. Draco stood up and used his hands to find Harry's lips. He pressed lips against the other boys and relaxed when he felt Harry sink into the kiss. Harry's hands settled on Draco's waist, grasping them and he pulled their groins together. He pulled back, then pushed back into Draco's erection, eliciting a moan from him.

"Draco," Harry murmured when their kiss broke. He cried out when Draco grabbed a chunk of his messy black hair and pulled back exposed his neck to Draco.

"Don't make this personal, Potter. Fuck me. Tease me. Suck me. But don't call me Draco like you know me. Let it be just what it is. Nothing but a quick fuck."

Harry nodded. Draco leaned in and kissed Harry's neck softly before he ran his tongue from the curve of his shoulder blade to the bottom of Harry's ear. He let go of Harry's hair as he sucked on Harry's neck. "Don't make any marks."

Draco stopped and scoffed. "You're a wizard, aren't you? Don't tell me you don't know how to get rid of hickeys."

Draco imagined that Harry's cheeks were bright red, but as he couldn't see the only answer he received was being roughly shoved onto the bed. Harry climbed on top of him, his knees sank into the bed beside Draco's hips and his hands were at each side of Draco's face. Draco tugged at the blindfold, intent on seeing Harry's face, but calloused hands stopped him.

"I've never done this before," Harry whispered. His face was so close to Draco's that when he turned away from him, Draco could feel his hair tickled his forehead.

Draco smirked. "I think the first order of business would be to rid ourselves of clothes."

"I know that! I mean – I heard from Dean that it hurts. I don't have any lube, that's what he said helps, and I don't know-"

"Shut up."

"I'm sorry -" Draco pressed his finger against Harry's lip to silence him before he began to unbutton the other boy's shirt. He ran his hands over Harry's stomach and was surprised to feel little muscles like his own barely a four pack provided. Harry shook above him, his erection pushed at his pants and when Draco slipped Harry's pants off, Harry moaned.

In nothing but his shorts, Harry pulled Draco into a sitting position, his mouth feverishly kissed Draco and his tongue had set up camp in Draco's mouth, moving and exploring every millimeter possible. He only broke the kiss to pull the Weasley jumper over Draco's head and toss it to the side. Draco undid his belt and didn't even need to unbutton them to kick them off. Harry paused when they were both in shorts, the bare chests pressed hot against each other, almost stuck together with sweat.

"I don't think I can -"

"Then don't think," Draco replied. His hand slipped under Harry's shorts and grasped his erection in his hand and touched the tip of his shaft. "Don't ever think."

There was something different about it, Draco realized it instantly when he felt Harry's magic pulse between them. Time felt slower, like every thrust took up an entire minute, and every kiss took hours. And although Draco knew it wasn't reality, he soon lost himself in the magic, he stopped thinking and met Harry's thrusts with equal force, allowing his magic to come between them as well. When Harry came, he collapsed stayed on top of Draco and kissed him.

Draco let him rest on top of him for a moment, but then thought better of it and shoved Harry to the side. He turned his back to him and looked forward, only to squint in pain when he saw light. "Holy shit, my eyes! Potter, what did you do to my eyes?"

The blindfold fell around his neck and Draco carefully opened his eyes slowly to let himself adjust. Harry stayed silent next to him, waiting patiently for Draco to finish looking around the barren room before focusing his grey eyes on Harry. He looked different than Draco remembered him. The lines of his jaws were harder and more defined. He was still scrawny, yet managed to grow thicker than Draco's lithe form. His eyes reflected guilt, and Draco shook his head and bopped the side of Harry's head. He noticed then the lack of metal on his wrists, and he brought his wrists to his chest and rubbed the red lines the cuffs had made on his wrist.

"What was that for?" Harry asked, he rubbed the top of his head.

"Get out."

Harry was silent for a moment, his eyes studied Draco's face and a wave of guilt washed into his eyes."We shouldn't have done that. No, I shouldn't have done it," Harry said.

"Don't weep about your bad deeds to me, Potter. Your Gryffindor sentimentality doesn't mean a thing to me. You needed something Weasley couldn't provide you and you got it. There's no shame in that."

"You better be careful. You're starting to sound like you actually care."

"In your dreams."

Harry smiled and touched Draco's waist. "You kinda look like a blond hedgehog, did you know that?"

"I do not! I take offense to that, Potter, because it is your head that looks like a wild animal's."

Harry chuckled and grabbed his trousers off the floor and put them back on. He stuffed his shorts into his pocket with a blush and began to button his shirt. "You know, if you just told me what we want to know, you could join us."

"I don't believe that for a second."

"Maybe you should, Hedgehog. Ron still calls you Ferret, but I kinda like Hedgehog."

"But maybe not and please, I am more sophisticated than either of those beasts." Draco paused, he watched Harry as he brushed back his hair between his fingers and stifled a laugh. "You're never going to get that nasty mop you call hair to look nice. I don't think they'll notice it's any messier." Draco paused, then said, "I wasn't supposed to go to Hogwarts. My Father wanted me to go to Durmstrang. It would have been strange, going there. After all, how was I supposed to be in Slytherin there? Anyway, Mum refused to let me go so far away so my Father finally relented and decided I'd go to Hogwarts. Imagine Hogwarts without me. You're life would have been so boring."

"Funny."

"You're wrong again, Potter. The proper word would have been hilarious."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Draco ignored his question and continued, "On my first day, we went the platform and when he saw all the new mudbloods trying to find it he was furious. He almost made me go home because he said he wished they'd thought to attack the platform during the first war because mudbloods flock there at the beginning and end of every term. Isn't it June now?"

"It's June twenty-sixth -"

"My birthday is the fifth, you know. Father would always send me a present even though I was going to be home soon. Mother always sent the treats and expensive present that really meant nothing. My real present was always waiting for me when I got off the train or just as we arrived at the Manor." Draco stared at the tan line where his ring was when he first arrived at the Grimmauld place and said, "Potter, I love my Father. Please remember that."

Harry didn't say anything, although Draco thought he heard a muffled happy birthday make it past his lips. For a moment, Draco wished he could take back his words and stuff them back into only his mind. Harry rushed to the door but just as he was about the run out, he stopped and looked back at Draco.

"Thank you."

Draco laid on his back, he fiddled with the soft cloth that had once been around his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Father," he murmured.

He stood up and walked past the red sweater on the ground and pushed the bathroom door open. Draco stared at the counter, he could see his stomach at the top of his vision and he ran his hand over his head. He stank of sex and sweat and when he finally looked up at himself, Draco stared at his reflection with dead eyes. His nose was red and ached a bit and under his eye was the remainder of a bruise from one of the fights. Yellow and purple bruises littered his body and he realized that Harry had steered clear of the worst bruises when he touched him. His eyes were still that silver grey Pansy raved about and his Father told him was a sign of his heritage. His hair, however, was mostly gone. He ran his hand over the short blond strands of hair and his throat felt closed and tears blurred his reflection.

For years, Draco was told he was the spitting image of his Father in both tongue and appearance. He had always accepted the observation with pride and with the faint hope he'd become a man like his Father. A strong, proud man that stood up the adversity like it was nothing to him. He ignored any bad opinion of his Father and assumed they were jealous of such a loving, intelligent man and Draco was proud to be his son.

Draco touched a bruise right above the scar on his chest from when Harry had used sectumsempra on him. His battered body reflected back to him like a mockery of all he once stood for and for once in his life he did not see Lucius inside him. Even in his eyes, when he looked straight into his own eyes he only saw grey, not the steel people referred to when speaking of his Father.


	4. Chapter 4

**Week Five**

_I don't believe in devils. Indifference and misunderstandings can create evil situations. Most of the time, people who appear to be evil are really victims of evil deeds. _

-Max von Sydow

For the most part, Draco didn't believe Harry would be honest with him. But when he walked into his room dirty and exhausted Draco shot out of his bed and went to him. Dried tear tracks were vibrant against the layer of dirt covering Harry's face, his hair was soaked with sweat and dust, and he shook against Draco when he collapsed into his arms.

"Potter? What happened?"

"They did what you said."

"I didn't say anything." Draco helped Harry over to the bed, where he sat down with his eyes glued to Draco's feet. "They attacked the platform, didn't they?" Harry nodded and Draco pulled Harry's head up so he could see his eyes. "What happened."

Harry jerked his head away from Draco and found a web in the corner of the ceiling to focus his attention on. The air around them grew thick with tension, Draco's expression went from one of concern to anxious, his entire body shivered but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

"Answer me."

"... We went down to the platform a few hours early to see if we could catch any Death Eaters before the train got there. Moody didn't believe you so he didn't even fight whether or not I should go, but then when the train got there everything was crazy." Harry stopped, he bit his bottom lip and refused to look at Draco. "Your Father – he – I – He came up behind me and asked where you were. He had his wand at my neck and Moody – He – Gods, I'm sorry."

Draco stared at Harry, his feet were rooted to the ground and his entire body trembled. He tried to swallow, just to have something else to focus on, but his mouth had dried suddenly and his throat felt swollen.

"Leave," Draco whispered. He took a step back and turned his body so that he faced the door. "Just get out. You've done enough damage."

"Draco-"

"Don't call me that! Don't call me anything, just get out!"

"Malfoy, I need to know where the last horcrux is. Please, tell me. I want to end this – I need to end this."

"You killed my Father! I don't give a rat's ass about these things you think are going to help you win this war."

"I didn't kill him."

Draco sneered. "But I bet you did nothing to stop it. That's as good as casting the spell yourself."

"There's was nothing I could do! And it's not like you're any better. You didn't do anything to stop Snape from killing Dumbledore!"

Draco stepped back away from him, his entire face twisted in a sneer that didn't quite go with the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He swallowed deeply, and said, "There's nothing I can do for you, Potter. Now leave."

"The Horcrux is Rowena RavenClaw's diadem. Please... I need to destroy it before I can confront Voldemort."

Draco visibly shivered at the mention of Voldemort's name, but he didn't say anything back. Suddenly, the image of the Room of Requirement flashed through his mind, a memory from sixth year when he was trying to fix the cabinet. He had knocked over another cabinet and managed to trip on a book that fell out of it before he noticed a tiara next to him. It had the name Ravenclaw etched inside, so he shrugged and put it back on top of the warlock.

"I don't know anything about a diadem," Draco said, his eyes shifted to the ground and he bit his inner lip. "I can't help you."

The way Harry looked at him with that disappointed stare as he waited for Draco to change his mind, then he sighed and left the room without another word. Draco sat down on the bed next to where Harry had been and felt nothing. It wasn't real. None of it was real. He sat alone wondering why he felt his Father's death was so distant, and why every time he thought of escaping, his Father was there at the Manor, waiting for him despite the fact he was gone.

* * *

Draco had known Gryffindor's were stupid from the moment he had heard of Hogwarts. Of course, for the most part his information was second hand from his Father, who swore that if any Malfoy made it into Gryffindor he was going to turn in his grave. But when he went to Hogwarts and met a handful, he realized that it wasn't that they were stupid, it was that they acted without the proper thought process to really come up with the best idea. It took Harry Potter three days to finally come into his room when he dropped off Draco's plate of food. This time, the dinner was quite good. The pie, especially, smelled of cinnamon and apples and Draco's mouth watered when he saw the desert.

"Why all the food. Potter?" Draco asked as he pushed away the plate of half eaten shrimp and began to devour the apple pie. "Did Mrs. Weasley make it?"

"No, I did."

"Bleh, it's horrible then."

"Shut up... Why are you acting normal?"

Draco shrugged and drank the rest of his pumpkin juice. "Because I don't believe you. What a great plan. Make me think my Father's dead so that I'll rat out everyone. Nice, but sorry, it didn't work."

"I wasn't lying!"

"I bet – Holy..." Draco looked around, the walls closed in on him and twisted. He closed his eyes and touched his forehead, only to realize that his hand was shaking. "Potter. What's happening?"

"I'm... Sorry."

Draco shook his head and tried to listen to what Harry was saying, but what his ears heard was distorted, like time had slowed then decided to go back. The sound of Harry's voice dragged and his mind felt fuzzy. The light was too bright and yet it was too soft the next, Draco groaned and held his head. He felt his body grow numb and a mind prickle at the corners of his.

"Potter – Stop. What did you give me?"

But he couldn't hear what Harry said. Draco breathed in short breaths, his entire body shook yet he felt like he couldn't move, like his hands were numb and his mind was powerless. Harry pushed further into his mind and Draco reacted, putting up light walls to force him out. Fear crept into his heart and his breathing became labored.

"Stop!"

Even as he protested, Draco's body relaxed and he felt as if he were floating above the ground. He thought he heard Harry apologize for what he was about to do, and he thought he heard the word horcrux, but he was distracted. His body floated above the ground in his mind, yet he could feel nothing except Harry's consciousness penetrating his walls.

"Fafnir!" His own voice rang through his mind. The image of himself beating the life out of one of the heads played vividly in his mind as Harry came into his consciousness. He thought of his puppy and his grave and his Father, sitting next to him, alive, breathing. Tears trickled down his cheeks for the first time, and his Father disappeared from the image, his grave next to his puppy's.

The dementors came at him, they leaned in for the kiss, his soul was away from his body when he felt the magic bubble up inside him. He screamed the spell, Fafnir protected him, like he did that day.

"Where is the horcrux?" Harry asked, but Draco couldn't tell if it was in his mind or his ears that heard it.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Harry said, but it wasn't Harry, it was Potter standing in front of him on the steps. Disappointment washed over him, he stared at Harry, angry at him again like it was still that day at Hogwarts.

The dementors came at him again, the pain shook his body, his mind, and he screamed out, begging for them to leave. A scarf blinded him for a moment, the pain subsided and he was in his room at the Manor, older. Draco pulled the scarf off his face and looked around at the room, and realized immediately that it was the summer after second year.

"No!" Draco shouted, he pushed at Harry, refused to let him in, but he couldn't keep it up. Every wall he put up was crushed within second, but he tried again. "Potter, no, please. Stop, please don't look at this..."

"I have to." Harry replied, pushing further into his mind.

"No, no you don't. This isn't what you're looking for. No, please."

But Harry ignored him. He pushed into the memory and suddenly Draco was there. He was twelve, in the middle of the year he had come home for Christmas, but when he called for his Mum, there was no answer.

"Mum?" Draco called. He ran up the stairs to his parent's room and heard a moan. He peeked inside and saw his mother making love to another man, bouncing up and down on him while he stared at Draco. Draco ran to his room and into his bed, where his scarf pulled at his neck uncomfortably, but he didn't move. "That was a nightmare. Just a dream. I'll wake up soon." He told himself.

Then, a man with blue eyes walked into his room. He was bare from his waist up and his pants were still undone, but he was covered. He walked over to Draco and knelt down next to the bed and said, "I just wanted to apologize if I made you uncomfortable." He whispered, his breath hot and wet against Draco's ear. He squeezed Draco's shoulder. "You're not going to tell your Father, are you? Your Mother doesn't know you saw."

"I won't tell."

His fingers were soft as they caressed his neck and then brushed his cheek. "That's a good boy. I want to show you why your Mum was having so much fun. Can I do that?" Draco didn't answer. He shifted away from the other man and tried to put some distance between them, but he grabbed Draco's scarf and pulled him closer. "Do you remember me? I'm Eric Landers. I work with your Father."

"Then why don't you want him to know."

"Ah, he'd get jealous of all the fun we're going to have."

The scarf tightened as Eric pulled him even closer and Draco panicked and moved closer so that he could breath. Eric unwrapped the scarf from his neck and unbuttoned Draco's shirt. "You're just as beautiful as your Mother, you know that? You're lucky you look like her."

"Stop," Draco murmured, once again he tried to move away, but Eric grasped his wrists. "I don't want to."

"You promised. Haven't you been taught to never break a promise?"

"I didn't promise -"

"Yes you did." Eric ran his hands over Draco's smooth stomach and began to fiddle with his trouser button. "You play quidditch, don't you? Your legs must be wonderful. Can I see?"

Draco's heart pounded against his chest and he shook his head, but Eric ignored him and unbuttoned his trousers and unzipped them. Eric slipped his hand underneath Draco's short, and when he touched his penis, Draco was mortified to find his body reacted.

"Stop!" Draco jolted away from him, and in his haste, he misjudged the distance he was from the edge of the bed and toppled over it. His head smacked the floor with a loud thud. Draco groaned and sat up slowly, he rubbed the back of his head and cursed.

"That wasn't very nice." Eric noted, looking over at him from the other side of the bed. "Bad boys get _hurt_."

Draco looked at the door, then looked at Eric. He jumped up and made a mad dash for the door, but Eric beat him to it and grabbed his arm. Eric flung him back into the room, he hit the back of his bed and his head slammed into the frame. Glitter danced across Draco's vision, it distorted Eric's face as he walked toward him.

"Didn't I tell you that bad boys get hurt?" Eric asked with a grin. He knelt in front of Draco and reached out toward him, when the door opened. Eric jerked his arm down and turned around.

"Draco – What the bloody hell is going on here?" Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorway still dressed in his traveling robes. In his hand was large box covered in bright paper with small dragons flying around. He dropped the present onto the ground and pointed his wand at Eric, who backed away from Draco. "Draco, come here."

Draco scrambled off the floor, grabbing his trousers to keep them up, and went to his Father, who waited until he had zipped and buttoned his trousers back up. Eric was clad against the wall, his back pressed into it and his legs trembled under him. At first, Draco stared at him confused, until he saw his Father. An expression that surpassed the looks he gave the Weasleys and muggle borns while he made snide remarks was on his face. His eyes burned with anger that Draco had never witnessed in his Father before.

"I'm going to show you something Draco." Lucius lowered his wand and put it back in his pocket. "When someone threatens you, always fight back. I don't care how you fight back, but a Malfoy never is taken advantage of." Draco tore his eyes from his Father and looked at Eric, who had visibly relaxed after Lucius lowered his wand. Lucius lifted his arm and shouted, "Crucio!"

Eric fell to the floor and screamed, his body convulsed and hit the ground with a thud. His screams were loud, shrill, and high pitched despite his low voice. Draco covered his ears and fought to breath, tears fell from his face and he remembered his Mother ran into the room in a disheveled state. She held her silk robe together, her hair was knotted and stuck up in odd directions and her normally perfect lipstick was smeared.

Draco couldn't breath, he tried to take in breath but his throat was closed, he looked around the room which had disappeared and he was back in the Grimmauld Place, where Harry stood over him. Draco wheezed and shook his head, trying to see straight. The ceiling expanded above him, then closed together.

"Malfoy? Malfoy, what's wrong? Oh god, hold on!" Harry sprung up and ran to the door, shouting a spell that made the barrier lift.

Black spots created holes in his blurred vision, and although he knew that Harry had come back and was holding him, Draco could barely feel him. His entire body was tired, his mind more so and he couldn't fight it, or ignore it. He stared up at the ceiling and thought of Pansy of her ridiculous nickname he hated, but would have given anything to hear her call him Draky now. His heart ached for his Father, tears leaked down his cheeks, he thought of his Mum and wished to be dinner with her, talking about Potter's newest scheme against him.

"A drug? Harry! Although I don't particularly feel sorry for you, Harry and Ron are idiots sometimes. Dilato!"

Draco's lungs expanded, he rolled away from Harry and sat up, taking hurried breaths. Tears continued to run down his cheeks and his lungs constricted again, this time it was not from a drug, but rather from trying not to cry. But he couldn't. He doubled over and wailed. Harry tried to touch him, but Draco pushed him away.

"Get away from me!"

Harry reared back as if he had been burned. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

It was then that Draco saw Ginny Weasley standing next to Harry instead of Hermione. He stared down at the ground and continued to dry heave and when she raised her wand, Draco did nothing. He didn't move, didn't look up, just continued to think of his broken family until the spell hit him and took all his thoughts away.

* * *

Draco woke up feeling groggy and more tired than he had been when he was stunned to sleep. He was surprised to find himself on the bed with covers tightly around him like his Mother had put him to sleep when he was a child. He guessed it was Harry's way of apologizing before he actually apologized, a way to show how he felt. Anger surged through Draco when the door opened and Harry popped his head in with a tray of food in his hands.

"Hi," Harry said.

Draco stood up and walked over to him and, at first, Harry almost smiled at him. But Draco simply slapped the bottom of the tray so that the entire plate of food slammed onto Harry's chest. Draco shoved him through the returned barrier and shut the door.

"Malfoy!" Harry opened the door back up and came back in despite the pudding stuck on his shirt. He stepped over the tray and continued, "I just need to know where the horcrux is. I know you know!"

Draco stifled a scream. "Don't you get it yet? I am not going to tell you! Your stupid group of morons stuck me in a room full of dementors, then you proceeded to treat me like a dog my first week here, then you start giving me shit back and expect me to be your faithful little dog and rat my family out? And then you go and kill my Father and still you think I'm going to tell you a god damn thing? And you tried to drug it out of me! There is absolutely no reason why anyone in my position would ever give you any information and even if you did have anything that I could possibly want, I still wouldn't give it to you because I can't believe a thing you promise."

Harry's face reddened with each accusation. He didn't look at Draco the entire time and his face scrunched up in a frown. "What if I said that I'd let you go with us to destroy the horcrux? All you got to do is show us where and once we get it, you can go. I'll tell Moody that you would only show us."

"You'd lie?"

"Yes. And I think that anyone would believe that you would say something like that anyway. I expected it the first night you were here."

"And I can go once you get it?"

"Yes, Malfoy. I kept my word with the draughts, didn't I?"

"You threatened to take them away."

"An empty threat, like you said."

Draco licked his lip and replied, "I'll have to think about it."

"Don't think too long. People are dying. Yes, I know you don't care about them, but someone you did care about died. I'm sorry about your father."

Draco's stomach twisted into a knot, he fought to keep his face passive so he pinched his lips together in a thin line and blinked to keep the tears away. "Don't say you're sorry if you don't mean it. I am aware that my Father was not a good man to you, but he was to me." Harry turned to leave, but Draco's voice stopped him. "Potter, have you heard anything about my Mum?"

Harry shook his head, he looked at Draco with sad eyes. "You really care about your Mum and Dad, don't you?"

"What son doesn't?"

"Malfoy... about what I saw -"

"Never speak of it to me, Potter. And please don't tell anyone about it. It was the past."

Harry nodded. "I know. And I'm sorry." He paused. "What happened to that guy? What was his name? Eric?"

"That's none of your business. Now get out. I don't want anything to do with you."

"But -"

"I don't know what happened to him, but I doubt my Father didn't use the incident to his advantage. Potter, drop it. "

Harry nodded. he shut the door quietly and returned with another plate of food. He cleaned up the mess with a quick flick of his wand while Draco ate, but he didn't move. He kept staring at Draco as he put a mouthful of food into his stomach, until Draco finally turned to glare at him. "What is keeping you in here? I thought I told you to bugger off."

"Yeah. But I figured you'd have an answer for me already."

Draco threw back in his and groaned in frustration. "What did I do? What the fuck did I ever do to get cursed with a Gryffindor as a guard?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are the most stubborn, persistent -"

Harry caught his arm and pulled him into a hug. At first, Draco struggled against him, but he felt he warmth of Harry's magic flow into him and he relaxed into his embrace. They stayed that way for several minutes, before Harry pulled away and stared at him. "What other choice do you have? I know you, Malfoy, even if you think I don't. I know you're going to sulk about this for a good day and then agree. Because you know that this is your only ticket out of here."

"And?"

"And... I think you're going to agree so let's just go."

"This is why you're always getting into so much trouble. Unlike other foolish prats, I prefer to consider all the options before I make a decision. If I decide to go with you it will be on my terms."

"You don't get terms."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't get terms. You show us the horcrux, you go free. That's it."

"I demand better clothes than this. Old Weasley outfits are itchy and looks terrible on me. Especially ones with the letter H on them."

"Okay. I'll get Mrs. Weasley to pick something up for you."

"What happened to my clothes?"

Harry flushed. "Ron may have... burnt them a bit. They were too torn up anyway - But don't worry! I'll have her pick up something green or something."

"And I want my wand."

"After we get the horcrux."

"Fine." Draco sneered. "My ring. The first night I was here you took my ring. Where is it?"

"Your ring? I'll give it to you when we leave, if you want."

Draco nodded and relaxed. He watched as Harry's mouth stretched into a wide smile and he ran out of the room yelling his friend's names. Draco laid back on the bed, his food forgotten, fiddling with his ring finger. When he had received it he was shocked, because when he was a child his Father told him that he would get it when he was seventeen.

"I'm giving you this early, Draco." His Father handed him the ring case. "It's your ring. I made it into a portkey that comes here. Only use it when you have no other choice and are in grave danger. There are a few places it won't work, of course, but hopefully it will help you."

* * *

Harry came back into his room later that night. Draco pretended not to hear him tip-toe into the room and attempt to be quiet. His breathing still gave him away – loud and deep. He stood next to Draco while he pretended to sleep, staring at him and soon he was kneeling next to the bed so his nose was mere inches away from Draco's.

"You haven't improved since Hogwarts," Draco whispered, he opened his eyes and Harry drew back. "You were never good at stalking."

"I wasn't stalking."

"No, this time you were just being creepy. What do you want?"

"... I wanted to tell you that – I know this sound crazy and you might just yell at me but, I wish I had met your Dad. "

Draco leaned up on his elbow and cocked his head to the side. "What? You've met my Father before. He didn't like you. Don't think it'd be any different now, if he were still alive. You're not my friend and I'm not yours. Why would you want to meet him again?"

"I didn't understand why you would protect such evil people, but – fuck, I'm not very good at this. All I'm saying is that the man I saw in your memory wasn't horrid and I suppose I understand. And it's not like you actually did it or anything -"

"Potter, are you trying to say that you forgive me for fixing that cabinet?"

"No. But I get it."

Harry leaned forward and captured Draco's mouth in a light kiss, his lips ghosted over Draco's at first, then he drew back completely. They stayed that way, staring into each others eyes for what felt like hours, they searched each other for answers, understanding.

"I don't think you could ever understand." Draco reached his hand out and pulled Harry back to him and as they kissed, he kept his hand on Harry's neck. Harry climbed over him and laid next to him. "What do you think you're doing? Are you out of your bloody mind?"

"Shut it," Harry whispered, he pressed his finger against Draco's lips to quiet him. "You're my prisoner, remember? You have to deal with everything I do."'

"Ah, but what about the Weaslette? Don't you need to go protect her while she sleeps?"

Harry buried his face into Draco side and muttered, "I don't want to protect her. I don't feel like protecting anyone."

Draco touched the tips of stray hairs sticking straight up from Harry's mess of hair and scoffed, but he didn't say anything. He relaxed next to the other boy and rested his head against the tip of Harry's head as he slept curled up next to him. Draco didn't fall asleep for several hours, he stared up at the ceiling and thought of his family, of his friends, and the Gryffindor in his arms.

He woke up to see Harry's green eyes staring at him, like they were last night with quiet intensity that sent his blood straight to his groin. Draco didn't make a move, however, and their eyes were locked until Harry turned away.

"You don't believe I'm going to keep my promise." Harry stated it like a fact, and Draco couldn't deny he had doubts so he simply nodded. Harry continued, "I've been thinking."

Draco snorted. "Is that so? I can hardly believe it."

"Shut up. Here." Harry handed Draco his wand. "Ginny was really upset about what we did, I mean, using that drug and everything. She said that forcing myself into your mind was on the same level as rape."

Draco nodded and took the wand. "What do you want me to do with this," Draco asked. "I could kill you if I wanted to."

"But you won't."

"You don't know that."

"I trust you."

"You shouldn't." Draco lifted up the jumper's sleeve and exposed his dark mark. "Do you see this Potter? This mark means that I am your enemy. Only a fool would give his only weapon to his enemy."

"You're not my enemy."

Harry's eyes blazed with determination and what Draco presumed was naivety and trust. Draco handled the wand lightly, his fingertips ran over it, turning the piece of wood in his hand, admiring the make of it. He grasped it tightly and pointed it at Harry, who didn't budge, his eyes continued to stare at Draco with that infuriating confidence that Draco had wanted to wipe off his face since he was eleven.

"Legimens!" Draco shouted. The spell hit Harry and he was in Harry's mind, in his memories and no walls were pulled up to block him.

He saw Harry in a closet under the stairs while he listened to a family outside eating and laughing about the day. He felt his hunger, his sadness, his overwhelming fantasy about his own family that just were not around anymore. Harry's eleven year old self seemed to stare straight at him as he watched him fiddle with the covers and sigh, wondering what it could have been like if he had parents, or if he was that fat child sitting outside.

The scene flashed again and Harry was in a cabinet, looking into Borgin and Burkes while he and his Father were inside. *"I thought you were going to buy me a present," Draco's younger self said as he browsed the dusty shelves.

"I told you I would buy you a racing broom."

"What's the good of that if I'm not on the house team? Harry Potter got a Nimbus 2000 last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous...famous for having that stupid scar on his forehead... everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick -"

"You have told me this at least a dozen times already."

Draco watched as Harry's facial expression went from simple curiosity to anger to something akin to disappointment. He frowned and wondered what Harry had to be disappointed about. Draco remembered that conversation with his Father vividly and at the time it rang all true. But he remembered the previous memory and his heart ached. His fame had gotten him nothing but special favors from Dumbledore, that Draco was still sure was true. The memory of Harry in such of small place sent chills down his spine and he tried to imagine what it was like. And suddenly, he was there again with Harry, laying down with his legs bent because there was no room and a curious fly buzzing around his head. The light flickered a bit, then steadied.

"This is dreadfully boring. I'm shocked you didn't die from it," Draco mused aloud. Harry, however, did not answer him but Draco felt a wave of anguish smash into him. He left the memory, and then it was a letter. A simple letter, one with another piece of parchment that filled Harry's entire face with glee. Harry was smiling, the truest smile Draco had ever seen, one of pure joy and hope. It read: *I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.

In the next instant, he watched Sirius Black arch back and fall. He fell into the veil, a look of surprise on his face, a bit of fear etched onto his features before he disappeared. Bellatrix was grinning, her triumphant noises were hard to bear.

"Sirius!" Harry's strangled, hoarse voice echoed in the memory. Lupin held him back, telling him that Sirius was gone, but Harry continued to fight him. "He's not dead!"

Draco saw Harry looking at him across the Great Hall in the next instant, then after he left, he noticed that Harry was muttering a spell under his breath and staring at a piece of parchment. Draco got a closer look at it and realized that it was a map. His name and a dot moved along the paper with Harry's eyes locked on it, waiting for the inevitable revelation of what Draco was up to. He did this up in his room as well, but Neville interrupted Harry one night.

"Harry," Neville hesitated, then said, "Why are you so obsessed with figuring out what Malfoy is doing? Hermione talked to me about it. She's worried."

Harry sighed. He put down the parchment. "I dunno. I just feel like I'm the only one that should catch him."

"You've got – you know, him to catch."

"Yeah, but – Malfoy is different. I feel like he's my responsibility."

"He's not your responsibility. He's a prick."

Harry laughed. "Yeah I know. But he's _mine_. I'm the only one that should catch him."

The memory faded out to later that year, when Draco was staring into the mirror with tears running down his cheeks and Harry stood behind him, staring at hm with a bewildered expression. He saw himself turn, panicked and unsure, Draco's wand lifted and the beginning of an unforgivable at his lips.

"Sectumsempra!"

Drops of blood sprayed from his wounds and Harry stared at him in terror and sank down to his knees beside him. Harry shook, his eyes did not close either from sheer disbelief or morbid curiosity, Draco couldn't tell. Severus pushed Harry out of the way, but Harry continued to stare at Draco's wounds, especially the largest wound on his chest. Once Severus had taken Draco away, Harry stayed. He stared at the blood mixing with the water, creating odd patterns that had taken nearly the life of a child to create.

Draco pulled himself away from the memory and from Harry's mind. He stared at the other boy, who's eyes were closed yet tears were welled up in the corners. Draco brushed away the tears and waited for Harry to open his eyes again. When he did, Draco slipped his shirt off and traced the lines of the scars on his chest.

"You gave me these."

Harry's hand touched the biggest scar. It barely touched his left nipple and extended to the right side of his belly button. The rest were smaller, in random places and lighter. "Severus said that even with the spell he came up with, I should have died. The spell hit me straight on and all the cuts should have been this deep and long."

"Why didn't it?"

"He hated to admit it, but it seems you didn't wish me harm after all."


	5. Chapter 5

**Week Six**

_Somehow our devils are never quite what we expect when we meet them face to face._

-Nelson DeMille

"I can't believe it took you this long to get us out of here, Potter." Draco snapped as he took his first step out of the room that had confined him for over five weeks. The Grimmauld Place was as his mother described it to him as a child: dirty and nothing compared to the manor. They walked through the hallways to another room that looked like the living room from the mismatched couches, but Draco couldn't help but scoff and think of the large rooms in the Malfoy Manor.

"What are you scoffing at?" Ron Weasley asked, his face twisted in a frown that threatened to become a sneer. Hermione Granger stood next to him and elbowed his arm. "Stop it, Hermione! I still think we should just lock him up and throw away the key."

"Ron, you and your sister need to stop holding grudges."

Ron looked like he was about to snap back at her, but Harry interrupted and asked, "Malfoy, where are we going, exactly? You haven't told us yet."

"Hogwarts," Draco replied. "But first I want my ring."

"What's so important about that bloody ring?" Ron snorted and crossed his hands over his chest as Harry handed Draco the ring. Draco ignored Ron and slipped it on her finger and felt despair wash over him. The reality that his Father was dead weighed on him, but he refused to let it show.

"Severus told me about a secret passageway from Hog Head's Inn to the Room of Requirement, but Ariana Dumbledore's portrait is guarding it. Am I safe to say that she will probably let the Chosen One through?"

"Maybe. But can't we just use the one from Honeydukes?"

"No. It's near the Room of Requirement. The floo connects to Hog Head's."

"Let's go Harry." Ron said. "Mum is supposed to be back any minute."

Harry nodded and motioned for Ron and Hermione to go through first. Just as Ron yelled out his destination, Ginny strode into the room and ignored Draco to get to Harry. Hermione left just as she reached him, and Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry and whispered him words of luck. Then, she kissed him. A long kiss in which Draco swore he saw tongue, and a kiss that did not evoke any emotion out of him, although his cheeks pinked with anger and embarrassment.

"Come back to me," She said, just loud enough for Draco to hear. She politely nodded to Draco as she left, her eyes focused on him as if to warn him away from Harry.

"You going?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded and went into the fireplace and yelled out, "Hog Head's Inn!" When he arrived at the other end, Ron and Hermione were waiting for him, wands at their fingertips. "Oh, calm down. I don't even have my wand."

"Take it as a compliment," Hermione suggested. "Apparently Ron thinks you're pretty skilled at this wandless magic. Harry told me the truth, though, that you hadn't learned how to use it yet."

Draco frowned at Harry when he emerged. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"What?" Harry gave him a confused stare that Draco shrugged off as he showed them the way to Ariana's portrait. He lead them up the stairs to the end of the hall into another room, where a young girl's portrait sat above the fireplace. She had should length brown hair and the same nose as the Headmaster, but her eyes shifted nervously from side to side when she saw them approach. However, when she saw their wands she calmed just a bit, and smiled at them.

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice higher than Draco expected.

"This is Harry Potter," Draco told her, pointing at Harry's scar. "See? We would like to go to Hogwarts and -"

"I was told not to let anyone in. Sorry."

"We really need -"

"Albus sent us. We need to get something important out for him," Harry interrupted Draco, he stepped closer to the girl. "He wanted to come himself but he was busy."

"Albus wanted me to open the door for you?" Ariana frowned. "I don't think Aberforth would like that very much. How did you get up here, anyway?"

"Yes, I would like to know that as well." Behind them, Aberforth Dumbledore stood in the doorway, looking at them with a frown. "You're trying to get to Hogwarts? Who told you about the passageway?"

"Severus Snape. He said that the Headmaster mentioned it to him in passing once. We need to get to the Room of Requirement." Draco answered. He looked Aberforth in the eyes and said, "Let us through."

"You think you can just come in here and demand that?" He looked at Harry. "You're the Potter boy, aren't you?"

*"We need to get into the castle," Harry replied. "You're Aberforth, aren't you? Dumbledore's brother?"

"Forget my brother and get away from this school. Hell, get out of the country and forget my brother's grand schemes."

"You don't understand -"

"I think I understand my brother quite well."

"No, it's just that, he left me a job -"

"Did he now? Is it pleasant or easy? The sort of thing you expect a young wizard to be asked?"

"It's not easy, no. But I've got to -"

"Why? He's dead, isn't he? Let it go."

"I can't. I'm the only one who can. Dumbledore explained it to me and -"

"Oh, he did, did he? I doubt he was honest with you. But do as you wish, boy. Ariana, let them through. There's a good drop from the entrance." Aberforth sneered at them and turned around to head down the old stairs. Hermione shook her head sadly and climbed on top of the fireplace and looked down.

"What a prat," Ron muttered under his breath. Harry nodded in agreement, still staring after Aberforth as if he wanted to follow and ask him more questions. Hermione's voice distracted him from Aberforth and back to the secret passageway.

"It's not so bad," she said. "See? It should be fine." Hermione jumped off the edge and dropped down the ground with a soft thump.

"That was risky." Draco watched as Ron and Harry followed quickly after her and looked up at him expectantly. "I don't like heights."

"I'll catch you," Harry replied with a smile. "I promise."

"I don't need your help. I just … don't want to ruin these wonderful cheap clothes." Draco sat at the edge and let his legs dangle of the edge as he swallowed again. Harry reached up toward him, barely touching his foot.

"Just lower yourself down."

"... Get back I'm going to jump."

"Uh huh. Hurry up."

Draco slowly began to lower himself down, but when he couldn't lower himself down anymore, Draco squeezed his eyes shut and let go, falling straight onto Harry. He felt Harry's arm wrap around his torso as they landed on the ground. A cloud of dust lifted into the air and Draco sat up and coughed into his hand, only realizing after the dust settled that he was sitting between Harry's legs. Draco jumped up and brushed off his pants and looked down the tunnel.

"It's this way, I suppose," he said. "There's no other way to go, so that's good."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. "We don't need to get lost. Let's go."

They walked for what felt like hours. Hermione lead the way with her wand held high with a bright light that illuminated a good ways down the tunnel. Eventually they saw a door, and when Draco set eyes on it his entire face lit up into a wide grin and he moved a bit faster.

"Malfoy, slow down."

"No way. Once you blokes get that ridiculous thing I'm leaving. It's in the Room of Requirement. I believe I threw it on top of a warlock wearing a wig after I knocked the entire thing over."

Draco flung the door open with such strength that it slammed into the wall with a bang. Harry frowned at him and looked inside just to make sure no one else was there, and looked at Hermione and Ron. "Okay, let's split up. We'll find it faster."

"In this pile of junk?" Draco looked around at the piles of random items thrown about. He and Harry walked together and when they passed the cabinet Draco had fixed, Draco looked the other way and refused to say anything. Harry saw it first. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the old cupboard he had stored his old Potions book. On top of it was the warlock with an ugly tiara sitting on it's dusty wig.

"Are you sure you knocked it over? Because it's in exactly the same place I saw it -"

"Of course I did, Potter. Don't believe me? I knocked the whole bloody cabinet over and tripped over this nasty book that came out of it in the process."

Draco looked like he was about to continue, but another voice echoed through the room in a soft, disbelieving tone. "Draco?" Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise stood ten feet away from the, their wands raised and expressions ones of shock. "Is that you?" Blaise asked.

"Blaise?" Draco ran over to Blaise and enveloped him in a hug. "Gods, I missed you. Have you heard from my Mum?"

"She's fine. I've been keeping an eye on her. I'm sorry about your Dad – Crabbe, what are you doing?"

*Crabbe had his wand pointed straight at Harry, his face pinched together and his eyes glaring daggers into the other boy. "That's Potter! Let's just kill him. The Dark Lord will reward us."

"No!" Draco moved away from Blaise. "We can't kill Potter! He wants him alive. I know he does."

"Draco's right -"

"Harry?" Ron's voice echoed from nearby. "Did you find it?"

Crabbe turned and pointed his wand at one of the high piles of junk that reached far above their heads and shouted, "Descendo!" The pile began to shift and topple over, but Harry whipped out his wand and steadied it with magic.

"No! Crabbe, stop! We need that diadem."

"What's that?" Crabbe asked, his eyes narrowed. "It's Potter our Lord wants and I'm going to be rewarded. You know what I think, I think you've went and sided with Potter!"

"Don't be an idiot, of course I haven't sided with Potter. Potter wanted it bad enough to come here, it must be important."

"Who cares what you think? I don't take no more orders from you! Your Dad is dead and you're finished."

"Harry!" Hermione yelled from the other side of the piles. "What is going on?"

Harry lunged for the tiara and missed a curse cast by Goyle and the diadem dropped out of sight in the middle of the objects. Crabbe shouted, "Crucio!"

"Stop!" Draco shoved Crabbe hard the same moment he cast the spell, making it slam into another cabinet sitting in the corner. It shattered under the stress of the curse. "The Dark Lord wants him alive -"

"I wasn't gonna kill 'em!"

"Crabbe, stop it now!" Blaise stepped between Crabbe and Draco. Crabbe's wand the pointed at Draco, his eyes flared with resentment and anger and the intensity made Draco move so that he was shielded more by Blaise."If we fight with each other they're going to get away -"

"Stupefy!" Ron shouted. He and Hermione shot out from behind a pile of junk with their wands up and spells at the tip of their tongues. Ron's spell went straight for him, but Draco managed to push Blaise out of the way with him, but it hit Goyle's chest. He crumpled to the ground, his wand laid forgotten at his side."Harry, are you okay?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Crabbe stared at Draco, his eyes burned with fury and his wand was still pointed at his former friend. Draco held his palm up and was about to speak, but Crabbe spoke first, "You're helping them, aren't you? You're a traitor, just like the rest of 'em! Well I'll show you I'm not so dumb after all, Malfoy."

"Crabbe, what are you – Crabbe, no!"

"Fiendfyre!" Crabbe screamed, pointing his wand straight up. A flame dragon shot out of his wand and hit the ceiling and several creatures made of flame descended all around them, igniting the piles of junk. Flames moved like demons, catching everything on fire in it's way. It moved too fast with a desire to destroy that would rival Voldemort's desire to destroy Harry.

"Run!"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron all ran for the door, but just as Draco was about to follow them, he saw Goyle. Draco groaned and ran back to him. Blaise was already there, they heaved the boy up and began to walk toward the door when burning junk toppled over, cutting them off. Blaise motioned to the door that lead to Hog Head's Inn. As they ran, one of the flaming pieces of wood fell on top of Blaise's shoulders and he fell to the ground. Draco nearly fell over when Goyle's weight was shifted only to his shoulders, and although he saw Blaise stuck, he dragged Goyle into the tunnel before he ran back.

"Blaise!" Draco tore off his shirt and used it to get the piece of burning wood off Blaise's back and used it to put out his shirt. Blaise groaned, but didn't wake up, and just as Draco was about to take him outside, a massive pile of burning junk fell in front of the door, blocking it.

"Holy shit, Blaise, wake up!" Tears prickled at Draco's eyes, fire licked at them and the heat burned his skin. In front of him was a large pile of stacked desks, so Draco shook his head with despair and managed to pull Blaise up the first level. "When we get out of this," Draco told Blaise as he tried to climb up the pile with him loose on his back. "I'm going to make you lose weight. No more sweets. Ugh, get up there."

"Draco!"

Draco heard Harry before he saw him. He looked all around, his eyes stung and watered in the heat, but his blurred vision saw Harry flying towards him on an old broomstick. He stopped right next to Draco, his cheeks were blackened by ash and his hair was matted with sweat. Draco immediately helped Harry get Blaise on the broom.

"Get on!" Harry yelled, but Draco shook his head.

"There's no way that broom is going to hold all three of us, Potter. Look at it!" The broom wobbled under the combined weight of both boys. "Get Blaise out of here. I'll be fine."

Harry nodded and swung around toward the door and shot away quickly. A burst of flames shot up next to him and Draco covered his face with his arms and shut his eyes. The fire was getting too hot, his robes were drenched and smoke burned his lungs. When he opened his eyes, Draco saw the diadem hanging on the side of the pile of junk that towered above the stacked desks he sat on now. It dangled in front of him at his eye level, it almost looked like he could reach out and grab it.

Draco glanced back the way Harry went and saw him fly through the open doors. He looked at the diadem and sighed. "Being good is annoying," he snapped. Draco reached out the grab the ancient tiara, but it was a good five inches from him even when his knees were at the edge of the desk. Draco sat back and coughed, his throat felt like it was on fire.

Draco reached out again, this time he extended himself further out, his entire upper body was in the space between the two piles like a bridge. His fingertips brushed the tiara and he lurched forward and nearly lost his balance, but he grasped the diadem in his hands and drew back with a grin.

Harry was flying back to him, Draco waved the tiara in the air, still smiling. His pile shifted suddenly, and Draco slapped his down down to steady himself, but the desks were still moving. Draco, terrified, held up his hand for Harry and just as the desks began to topple over, Harry grabbed his hand and held him up. His hand was sweaty and slippery, so Harry leaned over his broom and used both hands to hold onto Draco.

Draco looked at Harry's face and saw what had forced Harry to dunk his head in the water, what had prompted him to lash out and take everything from Draco. It wasn't anger, it wasn't the determination he heard in Harry's breaths, it wasn't even love. It was his will, his magic, his unwavering confidence and courage to pursue things until the end.

"Don't let go," Draco said, his voice cracked in the middle of his words. "I don't want to die."

"I wouldn't let you."

Harry grunted and pulled Draco up enough so he could grab the broom. He had to pull himself up the rest of the way and he swung his leg over the broom and held onto Harry's torso. In his hand was the tiara, but if Harry noticed he didn't say anything. They flew as quick as the broom allowed and Draco held onto Harry as tight as he could without breaking the other boy's ribs. Just as they were a few feet away from the door, a massive two headed flame snake blocked their path.

"Draco, the patronus."

Draco nodded, he felt for his magic inside his body and transferred it to Harry, who reciprocated, creating an inner fire that surpassed the flames all around them. He thought of when Harry slept next to him, of his Father and of the times with Fafnir, and the dinners alone with his Mother, when they talked about things of no importance. He remembered when Harry kissed him, when his Father told him to follow himself, of the first night he spent with Fafnir.

"Expecto," he said with Harry, whose magic overflowed inside him. "Patronum!"

The white, wispy image of Fafnir erupted from his body and the stag from Harry's and they went after the dragon together. The dragon looked like it may have tried to snarl and attack back, but the cursed fire was weak now that it had consumed so much and when the magic struck, it began to back down. Harry and Draco shot through the door and landed heavily on the ground next to Hermione and Ron.

Draco fell off the broom onto the ground face down and if he had not been a Malfoy, he swore he would have kissed the ground. He scampered over to where Blaise laid and made sure he was breathing before he said, "Crabbe?"

"Dead," Ron replied.

"You got your stupid tiara, are you happy now?" Draco asked, his hand still on Blaise's chest. "Goyle is in that blasted tunnel. I need to help him."

"There's another secret passageway to Honeydukes. Do you know it?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded. "I do... I'll just be going then." He paused, looking down at his ring. "Harry, come over here for a second." Harry was hesitant at first, his eyes showed confusion, but he knelt down next to Draco anyway. "This ring was supposed to be given to me this year. My Father gave it to me early because of the war. It's a portkey to the Manor. Voldemort," Draco shivered. "Has made my home his base. I'm guessing that Blaise and the others were here to scout out this place before they decided to take it. I will tell him that you have made this place your base and he will come, I'm sure. Take this." Draco slipped the ring off his finger and put it in Harry's hand. "Once he has disabled the wards you will be able to use it. If for any reason you think you will lose, then use it. Don't be a martyr. It's unbecoming and you'll be useless after."

"Dr – Malfoy, I'm not going to lose."

"Well then, good. You can give it back to me later, after the war. Otherwise, just keep it. I'm sure your Weaslette will be happy you have some sort of safety net."

At the mention of Ginny, Harry's face fell and he closed his hand around the ring. "I promise I'll give it back."

"Good, then, my wand. You said you Gryffindors always keep your word."

"Right." Harry handed Draco his hawthorn wand and with great delicacy, Draco held it in his hand with watery eyes.

"Thank you, _Potter._"


	6. Chapter 6

**52 Weeks Later**

_Sometimes I have wondered whether life wouldn't be much more amusing if we were all devils, and no nonsense about angels and being good._

-William Hurlbut

Draco waited at the airport baggage claim for his suitcase to come back around the corner, but just as he was about to grab it, a large women pushed past him to grab her own and knocked him out of the way. He sent her a glare and waited for the his white bag to come back around. She was stilling standing next to him, his cheeks flushed pink and his lips dark red with lipstick. Draco sighed and stepped back and waited for her to grab a small pink suitcase for her daughter then retrieved his own bag.

Her daughter smiled at him before following her Mother to the exit. He walked behind them, smiling at the small girl struggling to keep up with her mother until he saw a tall, black man grinning at him outside.

"Draco, glad to see you made it."

Draco shrugged. "I've grown fond of muggle contraptions. They give me time to think."

"You're just saying that so that the Ministry can't get any pleasure out of not allowing you to learn how to Apparate. I finally learned a few months ago. They have lifted that part of the sentence for a few people since you left. Maybe they'll lift yours too if you stay long enough to fight it."

"Is that so?" Draco shook his head. "I cannot use magic for four years with the exception of the research done at the university." He lifted up his wrist to show Blaise a silver band with a blue stone in the middle. "See this? If I use any magic at all it sends a signal to the authorities in both Britain and America." Draco paused. "Did you know that in America, hardly anyone apparates because they actually prefer driving? It's not so bad, Laura taught me how -"

"You have a muggle license?"

Draco's face turned red and he scoffed and shook his head. "Of course not-"

"I never thought I'd see the day when Draco Malfoy used anything muggle, especially something completely muggle. At least the Weasleys magicked their vehicle."

"Did you offer to come pick me up because you missed me or missed teasing me? In any case, I won't risk using any magic at all. Now let's go, you know my Mum doesn't like to wait."

"You're no fun." Blaise smiled and started to walking away from the airport terminal. Draco followed closely behind and as they were crossing the street, Draco noticed the same little girl gazing out the window of a passing car. Once they were completely alone, Blaise turned around and grabbed his arm. "Ready?"

Draco nodded and immediately felt the familiar pull at his navel as Blaise apparated them to the outskirts of the Malfoy Manor, where a carriage that looked similar to the ones at Hogwarts sat waiting for them. It wasn't a long ride to the house and Draco stayed quiet. Blaise, on the other hand, looked giddy and once in a while would open his mouth to say something but then closed it with a snap.

"For heaven's sake just say whatever it is you want to say. It must be good with that silly grin on your face."

"Don't you want to know about Potter?"

Draco frowned. "Why would I want to know about Potter? I'm sure he is still with the Weaslette."

"Yeah, that's true. It's all over the papers that he proposed to her but that isn't what I wanted to tell you. It's just that with everything between you two I found it rather strange that Harry Potter was wearing your ring."

The carriage stopped in front of the gates, but neither boy moved. Draco watched Blaise for any signs he was lying. He sighed and sat back in his seat. "And let me guess. You've kept this to yourself because you want to know the reason why."

"You got me. What happened while you were captured?"

"A lot of things. He took it from me the first night I was there." Draco opened the carriage door and hopped out. "He probably just forgot about it and decided to wear it one day."

"Right. Because a ring with the Malfoy crest normally just fits to any old finger. Don't lie to me. I've known you since we were kids, I know when you're keeping something to yourself."

"Then you'll also know when to quit prying." Draco entered the gates and walked quickly to the double doors. A few house elves bowed to him as he walked past even though they were in the middle of clipping the plants. He acknowledged their existence with a quick nod and swung the door open with a little more excitement than he anticipated.

The doors slammed against the wall and he was stunned to see Pansy, Theodore, Astoria, and Goyle standing beside his mother with a sign that read: "Happy Birthday."

"What's going on? My birthday already -"

"Astoria insisted that we do something for your birthday when you came to visit," Narcissa said with a smile. "She wanted your homecoming to be memorable."

Draco couldn't resist grinning, but his smile faulted when he looked around, half expecting to see his Father, only to notice an empty space. He pushed back the thought and thanked everyone before they bombarded him with various gifts. Blaise gave him a photo book with pictures of their Hogwarts years, which Pansy and Blaise had both went back for their NEWTS while Draco completed them in America. He noticed a few pictures with Harry with his friends in the background, one during his sixth year where Harry was staring straight at him.

"Stalker," Draco muttered, thinking of the time he spent with the Gryffindor in captivity. Blaise looked at him funny so Draco said, "It's nothing. I need to go to Knockturn Alley for a few things. Do you want to go with me?"

"Sure. I haven't been there in a while. It's pretty dead now, you know."

"Oh, Draco, can't you wait a few hours? Astoria hasn't given you her gift yet!" Pansy sat down next to them and pushed the photo book out of the way. "She went through a lot of trouble to get it and-"

"Pansy!"

"What? It's true. Go on, Astoria! Give it to him." Pansy nudged the girl forward and she gave Draco a small box enveloped in pink wrapping paper.

Draco stared at it for a moment before shaking it gently, trying not to show how curious he was about the girl's gift, and pulled the corner of the paper off. His brows furrowed as he saw a ring box inside. He opened it slowly and peeked inside, only to draw back. Draco's face crumpled when he saw his Father's ring. The Malfoy crest was endowed with jewels and it was made of pure gold and a snake circled the M. It looked different from his own ring – made of white gold and simple, without the jewels that showed off Lucius Malfoy's power.

The ring reminded him of Harry somehow, of what Blaise had told him on the way here. It made his heart ache. His imagination conjured an image of a pregnant Ginny Weasley standing next to her husband, who still wore Draco's ring. Yet this time, Draco was in the background, staring at Harry from a distance.

"Thank you, Astoria. How did you find it?"

"My sister said she saw it in Knockturn Alley but when I went for it someone had purchased it already. It took a while but I figured out who had it and forced him to give it back. I told him it was for you."

"Who was it?"

Astoria flushed. "I promised not to tell."

"Really now? Blaise," Draco stood up and slipped the ring into his pocket. "I think Knockturn Alley cannot wait any longer. Which shop was it, Astoria?"

"Borgin and Burkes. Draco, why do you care -"

"I just want to know who had it," Draco snapped, but he instantly regretted it once he saw Astoria's startled expression.

"Draco, may I speak to you alone for a moment." Narcissa wrapped her arm around his and lead him outside. "You have not visited your Father's grave since his funeral. I think that would be the appropriate place to talk."

"About Astoria," Draco supplied. Narcissa didn't reply, she allowed the answer to hang in the air as they made their way to the grave yard. "I am not interested in getting married right now. I know Father wanted me to marry either Daphne or Astoria, but – I'm not -"

"Interested," Narcissa finished. "He would have loved to see you marry. You need to get over this silly obsession with Harry Potter -"

"Potter? I am not obsessed with him. I haven't seen him for an entire year!"

"Do not speak to me like I am a fool. I am aware of your feelings for that Potter boy, I have for a long time. Your Father also knew."

"Father thought I had a crush on Potter? That's ridiculous. Potter was the reason he died -"

"Is that so? Well, then, I suppose I shouldn't point out that your ring is on Potter's finger at this moment. Don't look so surprised. I noticed it in the paper a few days ago." They entered the gates of the family graves and went to Lucius's headstone. It towered over the others by a good foot, an angel was carved next to his name "Draco," Narcissa said as she touched her fingertips to his cheeks. "You are eighteen years old. There is no rush to find a wife quite yet. But do not dabble too long or you will not have many to choose from. I do not want you to be with another man."

Draco frowned, but sighed in defeat. "I'm not even thinking about a relationship at all, especially one with another man. You have nothing to worry about, Mum. And even if I did, I could still have children."

"Male pregnancies are dangerous and foolish, Draco. Over half of the children die and a forth of the fathers do as well."

"You've done your research."

"No," she whispered. "Your Father did when I first came to him about the issue. Think about what he wanted for you, Draco." Narcissa turned and walked away from him, leaving Draco alone with his Father. He looked down at the stone grave and pink flowers laid out in front of it and sighed.

"It's been a year, Father." Draco began, his throat constricted and his words came out barely audible. "I think Mum has already decided on a wedding date but just hasn't told me." A hollow chuckle escaped his lips. "I live in America now. Everyone thinks I was crazy to go there, but they don't know anything about the war. They've heard of it, yes, but when they hear my name it isn't so bad. I know you wouldn't approve, but – I got my papers published. About wandless magic, you remember? You laughed at me when I suggested it."

Draco knelt down and touched the top of the headstone. He licked his lips and stared at the base of the grave, his sight blurred and his mouth was suddenly dry. "Someone got your ring back. I don't think I'd ever seen you without it until the funeral." Draco paused. "Mum wants me to think about what you wanted for me. But she doesn't realize I have.

"Pansy wrote me letters to tell me how disappointed Mum was that I was in America. It frightens me to think you would feel the same... Your ring... I think I know who it was, but I'm not sure. I just think he'd be the only bloke to be stupid enough to give into Astoria. She's not persuasive like her sister." Draco shook his head. "I don't know why I'm talking to you about this. It's time for me to leave for a bit. Do you mind if I bring a friend next time?" He kissed his fingers and pressed them against the large L that began his Father's name. "I love you."

He couldn't stop them. The tears slowly made a trail down his face and trickled down to his chin until the drops fell to the soil. He had not cried at the funeral. He had refused to shed a tear in front of others nor himself, but now with only the sky and the distant sight of Fafnir's grave in sight, Draco allowed hollow sobs to wrack his body. His knees buckled so he fell onto them, he clutched the ring in his hand, the ring he had adored as a child and fantasized that one day he would wear. Draco plunged his hands into the soft earth and dug a small, deep hole. Dirt covered his hands and was stuck under his nails, but his eyes ignored the filth to stare at the ring in his hand. It seemed to glow and sparkle in the sun. Draco brought it to his lips and kissed it before he placed it in the shallow grave he created, and covered and flatted the area.

He stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants and slapped his hands together. Draco walked back to the house, his tears dried as he walked and he used his sleeve to remove any proof of his grief. He thought of how he was going to get the information from the store owner, Mr. Borgin. His first visit there as a child was peculiar; after all, Draco had never listened to his Father when he was told to keep his fingers out of trouble. Every time he reached out to grab something, Lucius would tell him what terrifying things would happen if he touched that particular object. He never quite believed any of the stories, yet still felt nervous going there.

When he reached the house Draco headed straight for the Floo with Blaise at his heels with an expression of mock anger on his face. Knockturn Alley was not what eh remembered. The streets were empty save a few dirty wizards standing in a corner and half the stores were closed. Despite it's reputation, Draco thought fondly of Knockturn Alley. Especially a candy shop that claimed to have the spiciest candy in London and Draco was quite certain nothing could beat Dark Spice hard candies. Now, however, they were closed, except a few that were surviving by the skin of their teeth.

The few faces did not spark even a bit of recognition within Draco, but when Adrian Pucey turned the corner with a tall man with sandy blond hair, Draco was tempted to turn tail and run. Adrian had been on the Quidditch team with him, but that hadn't deterred his political agenda within the Ministry. In a bitter way, he reminded Draco of his Father – willing to use anyone to get where he wanted to be.

"Malfoy, is that you? Jesus, I thought you were still in America with your tail tucked between your legs." Adrian stopped right in front of him and looked down at him. He was as tall as any of the Weasleys Draco had met.

"I wasn't aware that I had went to America in that situation," Draco replied. "I was under the impression it was you that had lost. I still have the Manor and my inheritance, and what do you have? The legacy of trying to take down the Malfoys? You've petitioned for further punishment against us for over six months now. Isn't it about time you gave up?"

"The public wants what it wants."

"I wonder if the public knows you spend your time in Knockturn Alley."

"Is that a threat?"

"Consider it advice. I think you're still jealous of this retched tattoo on my arm. That's what you've always wanted, isn't it?" Draco sneered and took a step back from Adrian, who's face had turned bright red and his entire body tensed. He took a step forward as if to close the distance between them. Draco just smirked at him and crossed his arms over his chest. "Did I hit a soft spot?"

"Let's go, Adrian." The wizard next to Adrian nudged him, his voice was so soft that Draco couldn't make out what he said, but it seemed to calm Adrian.

"Fine."

Draco evaded Adrian's shoulder as he forced himself between him and Blaise. He glared at the other wizard's back until he disappeared, then turned to Blaise. "What a prick," he said before he entered Borgin and Burkes.

Borgin and Burkes was just as messy as he remember it when he went with his father. Shelves filled with random items cluttered the place, making it almost not worth it to get to the counter. Dust was worse than the random things, however; Draco walked through the store with his mouth covered, but he still sneezed the moment he made it to the counter.

"Mr. Malfoy," Borgin said. He didn't look particularly happy to see him, if anything he glanced at the back door as if he could escape through it. "What brings you in here today?"

"My Father's ring. I know you know who bought it so just save yourself the time and tell me."

"You don't have any influence anymore, but he does. I'd much rather meet your bad side than his."

"Is that so?" Draco sneered. "And I'd bet the authorities would love to know where you get most of your merchandise. I may not have political influence like my Father, sir, but I am his son. He told me many things, most of which are easily proven if looked into. How has Burkes been these days?"

Borgin stepped back toward the door, but Blaise was already behind him. He put a hand on the other's man's shoulder. "I would tell him what he wants, Mr. Borgins. Draco hasn't been in a good mood since he got here."

"It was Harry Potter! Harry Potter was going around looking for it about six months ago. Now please leave my shop. You're scaring away the business."

Draco stared at him, his eyes stared far away, past Borgin and Blaise and past the nasty wall of dust staring at him. He shook his head and turned around without a word, he ignored Blaise's protests and inquiries and made his way to the corner. He looked at the masses in Diagon Alley, the happy faces of witches and wizards going about their business as if nothing had happened one year prior. Draco shut his eyes and cleared his head of the troublesome thoughts.

He was about to enter Diagon Alley when he heard a familiar voice. The sound of her voice still evoked jealousy and anger deep within his gut, transforming his insides to rock with a simple word. He listened to Ginny Weasley stand outside a well known baby clothing store with Harry.

"Did you hear that Ron got promoted? He's so excited to head his own group of Aurors now, especially since no one thought he'd make it. But you know what tickles me? His partner is Pansy Parkinson. She's lucky she never got the mark."

"Ron complains that she picks on him a lot," Harry supplied. "But otherwise they work fine together."

"Why haven't you joined the Auror training?"

"Ginny, we've had this discussion."

"I know, it's just, don't you want a job? I know you have enough money to wait, but don't you want to start a family? We're getting married soon and -"

"I know that, Ginny! I just don't know what I want to do, that's all. I'll figure it out by the time we want to start having kids."

"Harry, we really need to talk..."

Draco chose this moment to stop listening and take his first steps into Diagon Alley since the war. He glanced over at Ginny, who had her hand on her belly with a wistful smile on her face. He turned away from them quickly, hoping they didn't see him, and began to walk down the street, once again he ignored Blaise's protests until he was roughly pulled back.

"Harry? Are you listening – oh, is that Malfoy? They finally published his papers on wandless magic here," Ginny said. "He's been back from America for what, a few days and he's already in Knockturn Alley?"

Draco couldn't help himself. He looked back at Harry and met his eyes, and suddenly he couldn't move. His entire body was frozen and his eyes were locked on the other man's. Draco felt his throat constrict and nerves threaten to shake his body, but he couldn't look away. Harry looked different than the last time he saw him at Hogwarts. He looked older and his eyes reflected uncertainty and Draco saw him fiddle with the ring on his finger.

Ginny looked between them, his face twisted in pain and somehow, Draco was sure she had known what had happened a year ago. She touched Harry on the shoulder and silently pleaded with her eyes for him to choose her, to not go to Draco and leave her behind. But Harry didn't break eye contact with Draco despite her touch.

"I'm sorry, Ginny." He didn't tear his eyes away from Draco's to look at her before he went to him. He stared straight into Draco's eyes, a passion burned there that made Draco shudder and when Harry reached him, he pulled Draco against him and into a kiss. Harry's lips were softer than Draco remembered, his body was familiar like the callouses on the hands that cupped Draco's cheeks. Voices all around them gasped and off to the side Draco swore he heard Blaise chuckle.

Draco relaxed and ignored the voices. He kissed Harry back, his arms wrapped around Harry's torso and pulled him close. Every inch of his body craved the other boy and wanted to feel him, a part of him wanted Harry to be his and only his. When they broke apart Draco looked at Ginny Weasley, who was still by the window with tears in her eyes and her hand on her belly. He almost regretted finding out Harry had been the one to buy the ring. If he hadn't, Draco knew he would have brushed Harry away and allowed her to keep the man that had been his guard. The thought squeezed his heart, and Draco shook his head.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to give it back." Harry slipped the ring off and put it into Draco's palm. "You disappeared and then I saw your paper – Gods, you're always getting under my skin. Even just the mention of your name is enough."

"That's because I'm the wrong sort," Draco snipped, his eyebrow raised slightly. "Least that's what everyone has told me."

Harry smiled. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."

Draco looked at him, his eyes searching for a lie in Harry's words. He scoffed and shook his head. "Harry," He whispered. "Harry, Harry, Harry. I suppose I could get used to it. Maybe."

_We are not angels. Nor are we the devils you have made us out to be._

_-Slobodan Milosevic_


End file.
